His and Her Scars
by lezonne
Summary: Sequel to HAHB. Hermione thought after the trial that life would be trouble free, but it doesn't seem that things will work out that way. After discovering Narcissa in a disturing state in one of the corridors, Hermione can only guess what other terrible secrets Draco has hid inside his home. The problems have only begun! Rated for language/lemons
1. Aftermath: Grudge

**A/n: **Welp, here's my sequel to "His and Her Bruises"! If you haven't yet read that story, I recommend reading it first; you'll be confused otherwise :) This starts off a few weeks after the other story ended, and continues off some different ideas as well as incorporating bits of pieces from the other story that never got explained thoroughly.

The chapters are between 2-3,000 words. Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

* * *

In retrospect, the drama from the trial didn't really die down for several weeks. People were floored by the outcome, and once it got out that Hermione had been abused by Ron, the papers went wild. Anyone who knew the ex-couple was questioned, followed, and sought out for interviews. If it grated on anyone's nerves, the blonde wouldn't be surprised.

But that wasn't the only scandal to arise from the trail. It got out that Lavender and Ron were sleeping together for years during the marriage, and even weeks later, Hermione still puzzled over what kind of affects that had on the girl. Lavender was "the other woman" in things, and she was the person that "tore apart a marriage" as the newspapers liked to say. There were very few people in Britain at the moment that really liked her.

As for the Weasleys, Hermione hadn't spoken to a single one of them- save Ginny- since the trial. The woman wasn't sure what was going through their minds, much less what they had to be thinking, simply that they probably didn't like her too much for the time being. That being said, after her first letter to the Weasley household was returned burned and black, she gave up on communicating for a while.

Yet one thing about the invasive papers captivated her. During her initial joy, during the time when she was elated about everything, the woman apparently lost her sense of placement. The same day that the articles about the divorce printed, Witch Weekly printed a different article, one Ginny quickly brought to Hermione's attention. It was a picture that made her blush.

In the photo she ran and jumped on Draco, the man catching her with her legs around him. In the next photo down, she kissed him. The brunette didn't want to fathom about what kind of impression that left on Britain, and decided to go into hiding for a few days after the fact. Draco had far too much fun poking fun at her for it.

Despite everything, she still slept in the blonde's bed each night. As the days progressed, she could feel him getting more heated when they kissed, more ferocious, and hungrier for something. Although she knew what he lusted after, the woman had yet to give into him. Sex was never something she found a lot of pleasure in.

"You're thinking too hard about something," the blonde drawled one morning when he found her curled up on the bed still around noon. "What could possibly keep you in bed this long?"

She smiled lightly to him, twisting her head to glance up at him. "I'm tired; last night visiting Harry really wore me out."

The blonde scoffed, plopping down beside her on the bed. "Oh please Hermione, I'm sure whatever strange games you played were nothing compared to how you would feel if you spent a night with me."

Granger shivered. She very well knew his implication, and it sent chills down her back. Instead of showing her reaction however, she hit him playfully against the chest instead. "Not tonight Draco."

The man groaned. "Well, why not?"

"Because I said so," she replied hurriedly, getting out of the bed. Before he could find something to bother her with, she rushed to the bathroom and shut the door. He wouldn't follow her in there just then, and she took the bit of silence as a relief, basking in the quiet.

Sometimes, Draco got under her skin way too much, to places she didn't too often think about.

* * *

Hermione had yet to return to her job at the Ministry. She was fairly certain she had been fired some time ago when work stopped showing up, but no one would ever know since her boss sent her an owl just a few days ago offering her a promotion and a raise. The girl suspected that he felt bad once he learned about her situation. She wasn't so sure the man understood all the implications, much less why she really decided to stop going in, but nonetheless it was a job offering back into an industry she loved, and the girl was elated about the prospect. She just needed to decide what to do with it.

Draco on the other hand wasn't so excited. He didn't seem to like the idea about having her so far away for most of the day, and without a job of his own, the blonde would go back to having way too many hours by himself. Apparently, that wasn't something he exactly enjoyed.

"There's enough money in my family to share with you," he muttered, "You don't need to return to work."

The girl scoffed, reclining back on the couch. "No, but part of me wants to. I'm not the type of person that is going to be comfortable sitting around this place just wasting away the days. You've known me a long time Draco; you know I'm happiest when I have something to do."

He groaned, brushing pale fingers through his fine hair. He sat adjacent to her, the chair he sat in looking more lavish than anything Hermione cleared out of her old apartment. Though she didn't want to live there anymore, she wasn't entirely certain that she wanted to live there anymore either. She wasn't exactly together with Draco after all, and now that she didn't need to stay hidden it seemed a bit odd.

Then again, she did sleep in his bed every night.

"I'm happiest when I have you to keep me company," he argued.

The girl shook her head. "Draco, whether or not I chose to stay here, it doesn't change the fact that I have little to do here now that I'm not creating a salve. Getting out will be good for me, and I can't just hide from the public forever." She crossed the distance between them and pat his cheek, hiding her amusement when he cringed. "It's good to get away from your home sometimes."

"Yes and deal with society," he mocked. "Sounds awful."

"It's only awful because you hate everyone," she pointed out, kissing his cheek. The girl was on his lap now, perfectly happy with her position. Draco didn't seem to mind too much either. "Now, how about a tour?"

He frowned, looking up at her. Since arriving, he had neglected to give her a tour, much less to take her around really. She wandered, and on more than one occasion she had crossed paths with his father and come out just fine, yet the blonde worried. What he truly had to fear she didn't know, but he was hesitant to take her around the large structure.

She had yet to even see his mother, much less figure out where she was. The few occasions with his father were the only instances where she saw any form of human life there, outside of the rare visits Blaise made. Hermione wasn't fond of either the Malfoy elders, but she wouldn't say that in front of Draco. He seemed touchy enough about this family situation.

Things couldn't be very good if the family spent all their time in separated wings, never speaking.

"Hermione, you know-"

"I know you don't like to," she replied, cutting in, "But I've been here quite a while now and although my memory is fantastic I only know a few hallways here. You always seem to find me before I get any further." She gave him a pointed look.

Draco glanced away. "It's just a sense I get, alright? This isn't a safe place."

The woman shook her head at him, rolling her eyes. "There's a whole three of you Draco, and I've only ever seen two of you. None of you seem all that scary. Besides, there's an entire array of things in this place that I know exist but have never seen. You always bragged in school about this place."

He smirked. "You listened to that rubbish?"

"It was hard to miss when you would boast about your inhumanly lavish life whenever you could, as loud as you could," she replied, rolling her eyes. "You were always going on about an enormous library, your own person Quidditch pitch, a gala, ancient artifacts that you've always had, and all sorts of things. If you have them here, why don't you put them to some use?"

To that, the blonde's expression hardened and he looked away. "They aren't the same anymore."

"I'm sure they aren't, not when everyone spends all their time ignoring what's right here in the Manor. You have to use those sorts of things you know."

"No Hermione," he snapped, cutting right through her joy, his face still angled away. "They aren't the same anymore. Anything magnificent that this place used to offer is gone now. Have you so easily forgotten that this was where Voldemort used to take up residence? Anything he didn't see a purpose for was destroyed and put to other uses."

To that, she snapped her mouth shut. In all honesty, she hadn't been thinking about that. She just wanted to look around the place, to look around and see what the Manor was really like. Her impression during the war was a bad one, and that was the only place in the entire complex that she hoped she didn't end up finding. But she hadn't thought about the destruction that took place at the Manor, and what must've been lost during the time that a group of rouge Death Eater's lived in the dwelling.

"I suppose I wasn't thinking like that," she said, looking towards the floor. "I was just curious."

"I know," he replied, and a hand came up to brush her hair back from her face. "But there's nothing magical about this place anymore. It's warded and it's protected, but that's about all. Anything majestic is buried in the ruined parts of the structure that we don't visit anymore."

Her eyes flashed. "Well, that doesn't mean it's ruined Draco, it just needs to be restored. How do you know that everything amazing is gone from your home if you haven't even gone to look?"

"I just do okay?" He picked her up, turning to deposit her on the couch. "I'm taking a shower."

A shower; he always did that when he was irritated. Either that, or the blonde started breaking things, both physically and magically. Hermione didn't say a word as he made his way to the bathroom, shutting the door a bit too roughly.

With a sigh, she straightened herself out and brushed at her hair. Maybe she shouldn't push so much. He was never willing to do anything. And although it would be easy to disappear down the halls while he was in the bath, she didn't want to. He would be angry if she did, and then they would fight, and she would end up sleeping in one of those cold guest rooms so that they could both blow off steam. And Hermione didn't want to do that; she never slept good there, yet in Draco's bed she slept the night away.

Pressing her lips into a line, she stood and left a room. If nothing else, she was going to go and play in the lab for a bit.

* * *

When midnight came, Hermione decided it was time to return to bed. Draco checked earlier to see if she was there, and though they spoke, Hermione could still tell he was tense. Despite knowing so much about her, he got unsettled whenever she pried too much at his life after the war. She knew it was an uncomfortable thing for him, but that didn't mean she wouldn't persist. He knew so much about her; she deserved to know some things about him.

And she intended to find things out. But for the rest of the night, she decided to let things be. Tomorrow she intended to drag him out for a bite to eat, even if that meant facing the world. They wouldn't hide in the bloody Manor forever, and although she really hated being pestered by anything that could talk while she was eating, she knew that she might go mental if she spent another day cooped up in bed.

Sure, bed was nice, but it was the same repetitive happening over and over. Hermione wanted to do something new, even if Draco would be apprehensive about it. They couldn't just hide away forever.

She didn't really accomplish anything in the lab. It was a lot of fiddling with things and writing down observations, but she didn't really have a goal in mind and she just kept fiddling with whatever was in front of her. When she left though, the lab was clean and everything was put in order. The only container left holding anything was a single vile, containing the potion to remove scars and marks. Draco hadn't taken his second dose yet since Hermione kept forgetting to bring it down, and he would never remember. Besides, she was very undecided about what to do with her own mark.

On the way back to her shared room, she got distracted by thoughts of Ron. He had been in prison for several weeks now, and although she didn't feel bad about his placement after what he put her through, the git sometimes came to mind. He tried to plead insanity after the divorce was filed to keep him from having to stay in Azkaban for two years at most. It churned her stomach to think that he was using that alternative, and hoped that his plea wouldn't be allowed. Ron didn't need mental help, he just needed to straighten out.

At least Ron wasn't a smooth talker quite like Draco. He couldn't weasel his way out of this one- no pun intended. She just hoped the new judge would understand that and not let him get away with this bollocks.

Glancing around her, she realized she had actually continued on down the hall right past her destination. She was at a two way path now, and she could turn either right or left, or simply return the way she came. Shaking her head, she pondered how far down the hall she was from her actual destination. The girl didn't recall having ever actually passed the room; she usually wasn't this distracted.

Shrugging, she decided it was just too late to explore and turned around to go back to the room. Her foot was barely to the carpet when she stilled, the sounds of moaning catching her attention. Her wand was out and lit in a moment against the dim torches, ready to handle Lucius again in a moment if it was needed.

Looking all around her, she realized no one was in the hallway with her. Frowning, she shook her head, deciding it was just her exhaustion kicking in. She really needed to get back to the bedroom and under the covers before she started hallucinating.

The woman was about to turn around when it happened. Down at the very end of the hallway something briefly caught her attention in the shadows, and she glanced back to see what it was. For one fleeting moment, she was reminded of a horror movie she saw as a child, The Grudge, and actually mistook the figure for the commonly known dead woman.

After her single moment of panic, Hermione's rational mind kicked in and reminded her that horror movie characters were usually fictional, and things like the grudge didn't exist in real life. Looking closer, she realized this figure was a woman, dragging herself up the steps, and she noticed that there was a head of platinum blonde hair resting at the top of the body.

Her eyes widened as she realized what she was witnessing. Was Narcissa Malfoy really dragging herself up the steps?

* * *

**A/n: **Bam! There's the opening chapter my lovelies- I took a different approach with this chapter. Don't worry darlings, there will be plenty of Dramione romance here in this story since the relationship doesn't have to form now, and we can see some new concepts introduced :)

I promise there is a reason for this unorthodox opening. We'll be seeing that in the coming chapters, and here we will get to see more of Draco's life and his personal emotions displayed.

Thoughts? Let me know what you guys think!


	2. Aftermath: Curious

**A/n: **Here's chapter two! I hope you enjoy this story darlings Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

Guys, I have over 100 alerts right now for this story, and it's chapter 2! That's... craziness! Thanks so much for it :) I wasn't sure if people would like that first chapter since its so different, but I'm glad you did! Keep up with those amazing comments! You guys made me feel so good coming off that last chapter :)

* * *

For several seconds Hermione didn't really know what to do about the situation. Was Draco's mother hurt? Did something happen? Was there a break-in she hadn't heard? Was she just mental? Everything flipped through her mind quickly, the questions following each other one after another.

The woman moaned again, curling her legs up against her. The shadows gave a creepy feel to the situation, and Hermione took a few steps closer to get a slightly better look, comfortable since there was still quite a bit of hall between the two. She wasn't entirely sure what was wrong or how Narcissa would react if the woman actually recognized her, but the brunette decided she didn't really want to find out.

It appeared that the blonde woman didn't even realize Hermione was there, and brazenly the girl dared to step forward again, again closing the gap between them. There were still several rooms between the pair, and the girl knew the only reason her light spell worked so well was because she was a powerful witch. Otherwise, she would probably have to be a lot closer.

Now curled in on herself, Mrs. Malfoy didn't really seem like she planned to move at all. Hermione didn't think that it would be wise to speak, uncertain how the person in front of her would react. It didn't seem likely that the woman would personally remember her voice, not when the only time they really ever crossed paths Hermione spent the majority of the time screaming at the end of Bellatrix's wand.

But she didn't feel right just leaving her there. Only, she wasn't sure that she knew what to do either. Her parents had always been mentally sound, tooth-loving people. This type of reaction wasn't something she was accustomed to, and ruining Draco's mother didn't seem like it would be the best course of action. Deciding to not take chances with something she was uncertain about, she walked backwards slowly until her original hallway came into her peripheral view, and she bolted down that way, in search of a certain door that she knew very well.

"Draco!" she said the moment she entered the room. She jumped on the bed, jarring the blonde from his comfortable sleep. He grunted, reaching for his wand in the same moment, stopping when he noticed who was sitting on the bed, staring down at him.

"You can't wake people up that way," he groaned, but she was already pulling on his wrist. "What do you want?"

"You have to come see something," she sat, hopping over him to land on the other side of the bed before she vanished the bed sheets away, unsurprised to see that he wore only boxers. "Put on some trousers and then come with me- you need to help me."

He grumbled, sitting up. "What the hell did you do woman? You must've done something if you-"

"I haven't done anything," she snapped, crossing her arms. It was annoying to think that he only thought that she would awake him like this because she did something. That wasn't even the case! She just wanted to know what was wrong with his mother without taking a dangerous chance and causing more problems, and it bothered her that he seemed so certain that she would've done something to cause a problem. "Just get dressed."

After throwing on a pair of trousers that Hermione supposed could only be used for sleepwear, the duo left the room, with Draco following Hermione down the fairly dark halls, the nightly torches almost done burning for the night. When she came close to the end of the hallway she lit her wand, and then turned back to the blonde.

"Before you make any more hideous accusations about what _I_ must've done, I would like to point out that I didn't do anything. I was in a daze and kept walking, and in the process I stumbled across something." She nodded her head in the direction she had seen Narcissa. "I found your mother crawling up the stairs, and I didn't know what to do so-"

His eyes flashed the moment she mentioned his mother, and before she could even finish her sentence, he had shoved past her, his wand glowing as he rushed off in the direction she indicated. Hermione didn't need to recover from anything before she turned and followed him, minding her distance. This did seem like a touchy matter.

The woman sat where Hermione last saw her, and she was still huddled against the wall, moaning. Unlike his brunette counterpart, Draco didn't seem worried at all about getting up close and personal to the woman. Brushing her hair from her face, he studied something on her briefly, muttering words Hermione couldn't hear before he swore loudly.

"Are you willing to help me even though I've been a prick tonight?" he asked, glancing up at Hermione. She nodded once, curious about the entire situation.

"Glad to hear it," he said gruffly before returning his attention to his mother. "Mother," he said in a gentler tone, holding her shoulder, "Mother, I'm going to take you back to your room now, okay?"

Narcissa didn't respond, and Hermione got the impression that Draco didn't expect her to since he didn't wait for one as he pulled away and aimed his wand at the woman, levitating her above the ground with ease, the poor soul still curled in against herself.

"I'm just taking you back," he reminded, grabbing Hermione's hand with his other as he began walking. In such close proximity the brunette was really able to take in the woman's appearance.

Her clothing, which was known to have been made from the finest of materials, looked old, dirty, and tattered. The skirt of what must've been a lavish dress at one point was shredded at the bottom, long strips of material replacing what was once one piece of fabric. The skin that she could see looked drawn and taunt, as though Narcissa didn't spend much time drinking. She was even paler than her son, and her hair lacked a healthy shine, replaced by dirty- not greasy- locks. Several questions appeared in her mind at once, but she held her tongue and kept silent. Now wasn't the time to be asking things, not when Draco looked distraught like that, and his mother was a right mess.

Narcissa's room was on the opposite side of the Manor from Draco's. On the walk the brunette saw more of the place than she had ever seen which was distressing considering the entire structure was cloaked in shadows. It was tiresome to even embark on the walk across the building, and Hermione's feet were sore and cold by the time they reached their destination, her flimsy slippers inadequate shoes to be trekking around in.

Draco released her hand to open the largest door in what had to of once been an extravagant hallway. Narcissa still huddled away from them, and once the door was open her composure didn't change. Inside Draco beckoned for the brunette to light some of the candles surrounding the room, and Hermione did just that, watching as he sat the woman down on the bed, removing the spell.

All at once, Narcissa squirmed away from her son, diving into the center of the bed to pull the blankets tight around her. These fabrics weren't worn through and tattered, but remained the picture of what Hermione expected in a pace like this; rich fabrics decorated in hideous designs, lush and preserved and quite soft looking. It was hard to watch the scene however when she was busy lighting candles, trying to keep from lighting herself as well.

The room itself was decorated richly as well, everything very beautiful and pristine. What surprised the girl was the lack of items that seemed to hold any personal value adoring the room. There was plenty of furniture, but very few accessories and nick-knacks around the space. Aside from the candles she was lighting, and a book, nothing else small adored the space. It was surprising. When she finished, she turned back to observe.

Draco seemed to be observing his mother as well, though he wouldn't utter a word. For many moments, she wondered if he would say anything at all.

"Hermione," he said, not turning around. She was a bit shocked by how dull his voice sounded. "Do you think you could step out in the hall a moment, just a moment? I need to speak with my mother."

The girl's face screwed up, thinking that was quite an odd request. But nonetheless, Draco seemed very distraught by what he was seeing, and she decided to give him some privacy for a moment. Agreeing, she left him alone, closing the door behind her. The moment she was gone, he balled up his hands, attempting to keep from breaking something.

"Crink! Grink!" Immediately, the two elves popped into existence. "What is the meaning of this!? You're supposed to always be watching her! So why did I have to have Hermione find her?!"

The two little elves looked rather terrified in that moment, and if the brunette had been in the room she probably would've vouched for the poor creatures. "We are sorry Master, but-"

"No buts," he replied hotly, running a hand through his hair as he began pacing the room. "You know that she can't wander the halls anymore, you know! My wards must be out of date if she was able to walk so far from her room, and I must update them, but that doesn't excuse the fact that she got out in the first place! Why did she get out exactly?"

Crink spoke this time, seeming to be just as terrified. "She went on about apples, and she demanded she get some-"

"You left my mother unattended because she babbled about apples for too long!? You idiots, she _always_ babbles. Just because it's a fucking food related task doesn't mean that you both go! If the wards are as weak as they are, I don't want her left unattended. I don't want her getting hurt anymore."

"Yes, Master," the pair agreed at the exact same time. Draco nodded to that, brushing past to ward each candle and its flame, just in case his mother thought they were pretty again.

His mother, the woman he just had to move back to her own bedroom. His mother, who half the time didn't even realize that she was speaking to her son. His mother, who would never really be the same again, not after everything that happened.

He couldn't stand the way things ended up for her.

"Are the other wards anywhere weak?" These weren't the wards his ancestors created centuries before, using raw magic to configure spells that even Voldemort hadn't been able to crack. But on the inside of his ancestral home, things weren't quite so perfect. Draco himself created the wards at the end of each wing to try and keep his parents divided from both themselves, as well as himself sometimes. These were spells constructed from modern magic, magic that wasn't as pure and powerful anymore. His spells did not match up to the density and power as those of his ancestors did, and he couldn't stand that. He had to keep things separated.

"Yes, Master, all of them," Grink replied, looking a bit apprehensive about responding.

"Then I guess I'll handle that before going to bed," he muttered. Glancing over his shoulder now that the candles were warded, he sighed. "I'll visit soon mother; I know I've neglected to for a while."

No response came, and he didn't hold out for one. Dismissing the elves, they disappeared with a pop, leaving Draco and his mother alone. But he didn't have anything left to say to her, considering that she wouldn't give a response. Without another word, he left as well, shutting the door before Hermione could peer back inside.

"What… what exactly was that?" she asked, several moments after he entered the hall and slumped against the door. "I mean-"

"Hermione," he said tiredly, leaning his head back against the door, "Please, not now."

As though sensing his distress towards the situation, she shut her mouth, ending the rest of her question before it began. For several seconds they stood in the hallway together, no words passing between them. Then Hermione stepped forward, hugging the blonde loosely. When he responded by crushing her to him, she hugged back just as tightly.

"I won't ask anymore," she said quietly.

"No," he replied, closing his eyes, "Not for a while, anyway."

* * *

**A/n: **We'll get to hear about Narcissa soon enough!


	3. Aftermath: Lunch

**A/n:** Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely!**

* * *

Hermione gave Draco some space for the next several hours, choosing to use the _very_ early morning hours to take a bath, shave, and return to the bed for a bit of reading. He was supposedly going to sit in the room and think, but when she exited the bathroom she found the room to be vacant. Curbing her curiosity for the time being, the brunette curled up with a good book and read for a bit, before falling asleep as dawn drew closer. She even forgot to put the book down before drowsiness overtook her, and at some point the paperback ended up on the floor.

She awoke to the feel of hot lips sucking on the sensitive skin of her neck. Startled from her slumber, Hermione jolted awake, only to relax half a second later when the rational side of her reminded her that this had to be Draco. And Merlin, he knew just where to suck on her neck to make the girl shiver.

"Morning," he said lazily, pulling back a few moments later. "How did you sleep?"

He had lifted his body up off of her, and now the blonde was just bent over her on the bed. She didn't find this position any less appealing, and despite how very early it had to be, she found her mind wandering down dangerous roads that she had thus far been avoiding.

"Fairly well," she replied, stretching beneath him. If the blonde's eyes traveled over her body when she did so, the woman didn't notice. "When did you even get back here?"

"About an hour ago," Draco replied, averting his eyes as he said this. "I went for a stroll around my home, ensuring that all the wards have been strengthened again- just as a precaution of course."

Hermione was unsure how she felt about this, and she sat up, causing the blonde man to have to move away. "You don't need to hole your parents up you know. This is their home, and whether or not I like being in their presence really isn't important. You shouldn't have to conceal your parents."

"It's not just for your protection," he argued, his eyebrows drawing together, "It's for their own as well. Look Hermione, you have to understand something. My father, well my father is a bastard. He fucked up our lives, and that is not something that makes me feel particularly indebted to him for. But my mother was an innocent. She didn't need to suffer as she did. And now that you have encountered both of my parents, you can distinguish the obvious differences between their conditions. My father can still partially function; can still act as a man. But my mother barely recognizes who I am at times, let alone knows how to function on her own anymore. The sanity in her mind has decomposed overtime, disappearing into nothing. At least today there were no fits."

"Fits?"

Immediately, he shook his head, obviously regretting his statement. "Never mind, I'll explain later." Standing, the brunette realized that he was already clothed. "What would you like to do today, Miss Granger? You're officially a single woman now, you have no limitations, and I would certainly say that enough time has now passed that it must be safe for you to go outside without you being harassed by too many reporters. So where would you like to go?"

"Actually," Hermione said, glancing away as she rubbed the back of her head, "I kind of just wanted to go exploring here."

Draco grimaced. "That's not exactly what I had in mind. There's nothing spectacular to see here anymore, not after everything. And considering the predicament you were in during the war, I'm a bit surprised that you would want to wander this place at all."

"That was ages ago, Draco! And more so, Bellatrix isn't even here anymore. I won't just sit here and be afraid to wander through a structure." She didn't bring up the fact that she was a bit weary of passing through that room. Instead, she just kept her mouth shut. "Besides, your aunt could've done far worse. It's thanks to you that we got out of that so easily."

"Yes, easily," he remarked, rubbing his back from memory. Saving the bloody Golden Trio really hadn't been the easiest choice he had ever made.

"And since you've been so diligently watchful, I haven't gotten the opportunity to explore- and I don't count last night as exploring in the least bit." Crossing her arms, she pouted, a look that wasn't all that attractive for her. The woman was far to esteemed to attempt such a feeble act as pouting. "I've been here for quite a while. I don't see any reason why I can't see your Manor."

The blonde rubbed his head again, obviously thinking things over. "I'm not sure Hermione, I'm just not. I'd rather get out of here for today."

Rolling her eyes, the brunette relented. What the man's real problem was with her exploring the Manor remained a mystery in her eyes, but she understood that he wasn't jumping with joy at the idea of showing the enormous place off. He seemed to see the place as more of a hell than a haven those days.

"Fine, we'll just go eat, like typical, boring people."

Draco suppressed a smirk, thinking that perhaps now wasn't the best time to be cocky. "Sounds wonderful."

* * *

Lunch was a pleasant, if not somewhat diluted experience. Although more than a few spectators stared their way when they entered the lavish establishment, that wasn't the part of the journey that perplexed Hermione most. It wasn't even the food. No, it was simply the blonde's lack of communication. They barely spoke at all.

From her seat, Hermione could practically see the gears turning in his head. She supposed that he was still fixated on the Manor, his mother, and possibly her persistent desire to explore, and therefore that caused him to neglect most of her conversation ideas. She may as well have gone out alone.

In all honesty, she really didn't understand his mood. Certainly in the weeks prior he had been touchy about anything concerning his parents, but there hadn't been any exhibits of outright emotion. And with his mother in such a state, she found it mind-boggling that he withheld such information for so long. But she supposed those wards of his had to help, considering that she saw so very little of the structure until recently. Questions prickled at her from all directions, and she still wasn't sure which ones to attempt to tactfully ask. Considering how troubled he seemed by the entire ordeal, she didn't want to push him over the edge.

But he didn't get to keep huge secret either, not when he spent the last several weeks discovering her darkest ones.

She was about to try and ask him something when his eyes fixated on something over her head, and she paused, knowing very well that this was the first time his eyes had settled on anything since entering the place. Glancing over her shoulder, she cringed, and willed herself to sink down into the seat, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't see her.

Unfortunately, luck wasn't on her side.

"Hermione," said the voice, and she cringed once more as the blonde's eyes darkened, his gaze following the man as he came to stand by their table. "I didn't know you would be here."

"Then it shouldn't be too hard on you to turn around and leave," Draco replied, cutting in before she could open her mouth. Beneath the table, she kicked him, but he didn't take back the comment.

Completely ignoring Draco, much to the blonde's annoyance, he turned away and solely focused on Hermione. "It's good to see you out and about again. Everyone was wondering when you would come out of hiding, considering that you didn't go out a lot beforehand either."

"Well, as you can see, I'm out and about again," she replied coolly, studying him. She didn't so easily forget that he was working with Brown only a few weeks ago.

"I actually wanted to warn you about something," he continued, really catching their attention now. "I wasn't going to bother owling you this because I didn't see it as a threat after the way things went in court, but Lavender is planning on accompanying Ron to his retry hearing. I doubt that things-"

"He's getting a repeat?" she asked, sounding horrified. Who in their right mind would give him a repeat trial?!

"I think it's bollocks," the man replied, smiling uncomfortably at her. "But I am aware that she's going, and she wanted me to go as well. Look, I'm not really sure what you want to do with that information, but since I saw you here, I thought I should let you know." He smiled sheepishly. "There probably isn't anything to worry about."

"If you're certain there's nothing to worry about, then why are you bothering to tell us?" Draco asked, forcing his way into the conversation again. "If the outcome isn't likely to change- and I'm quite certain it won't- then why are you bothering?"

For a single moment Seamus bothered glancing at the blonde, a different emotion shining through his irises for a brief instant. Draco's eyes flashed in return, immediately noticing the glint in Finnegan's look. It was a possessive look.

A look full of desire, a desire that was certainly not angled at him. And Draco didn't like that one bit.

"I haven't made the best choices in the past," the former Gryffindor replied smoothly, his attention focused again on Hermione, "And considering what I did regarding… the trial, I supposed that it would be good of me to attempt to be kind in other ways. I don't mean anything by it." He smiled down at the woman, and she only raised an eyebrow. Obviously, she was just as aware of Seamus' actual intentions as Draco appeared to be, and thus far Finnegan's attempts were feeble and quite pathetic. After he chose the opposite side, sided with someone Hermione couldn't stand, and tried to help her abusive ex-husband _win_ the case, he should know better than to think that mentioning something so meager would put him back in her good graces. The girl wasn't a fool, and she wouldn't fall for such an unconvincing act.

"Well, thanks," she said politely, giving him a soft smile in return. There was nothing hostile in her expression, though the emotion on her face did seem a bit cold. There was nothing genuine about the look.

If her lack of response made Seamus' confidence waiver at all, he didn't let it show. Although the git attempted a few more times to get Hermione to at least genuinely smile in his direction, nothing proved to work in his favor. Eventually relenting at her lack of enthusiasm, Finnegan bid the two goodbye, attempting to ignore Draco as much as possible.

Once he was out of earshot, Draco scoffed. "Well, he's a bit desperate."

"What do you mean?" she asked, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

For a moment he thought she might actually be serious, and he stared at the woman in shock. She couldn't be really… his thoughts cut off as he realized she was suppressing a grin, and he smirked. Okay, so at least she was catching on to what he saw happening. "Oh, you're right Hermione. There was nothing obvious going on there."

"Of course not," she replied lightly, relaxing in her seat. "I don't believe he actually came over to tell me that!"

Draco shrugged. "He likes you, just admit it. Even back when I was just trying to use you to help with my tattoo, he had a fit because he believed I was the sole reason you were leaving that bloody pub. I suppose he just couldn't stomach the idea that you were going away."

"But you were the reason I quit my old job," she reminded, picking up her glass to take a sip. "Remember?"

"No, but I do distinctly remember that I had to offer up any money to get some help with it. You might have a _"kind and generous heart"_ but let's not sugar-coat things; you would've turned me down without that incentive. I saw an opportunity to help myself and I took it."

"After telling me that I shouldn't be in such a horrible place," Hermione pointed out, enjoying poking fun at him. Seeing Seamus may have been a slightly uncomfortable experience, but at least in the aftermath he left them in an oddly good mood. It was better than before at least.

The man rolled his eyes, suppressing a grin. "Keep telling yourself that."

* * *

After returning home, Hermione didn't give much thought to Seamus' words. She wanted to explore the Manor, but instead she took up residence at the large desk in Draco's room. He didn't question her placement, and disappeared only a few minutes after their arrival. In return, she didn't question that. Her mind was focused on other things.

Like the bottle in front of her. She had made another dose of the potion, the one that removed heinous marks like Draco's tattoo. Yet she still hadn't decided if she should use this batch on herself to remove the _Mudblood_ scar carved into her skin. Getting rid of the memory entirely just didn't sit well with her.

The mark was a symbol of what she survived after all. It felt wrong to get rid of it. On the other hand, she didn't always enjoy seeing the mark and remembering the pain. Currently, she sat at a crossroad, unsure about what she would do.

Hermione could always remove part of the scar, but she wasn't so sure about that either. What part would she even keep? Gently tossing the bottle in her hand, she rested her head back on the chair. She could always give the potion to Draco, and allow him to completely rid himself of the Dark Mark. That might work, since she wasn't doing anything with the bottle as it was. If she finally knew how to recreate it, then why shouldn't she use it? Although she didn't know how she personally felt about the potion's power, she knew that Draco was anxious to be completely rid of that hideous reminder of his past. At least now he wasn't burdened with pain. Whenever the tattoo actually bothered him, it was only a dull feeling, nothing like it was before. Hermione prided herself in that.

She was about to put the vial away again when a tapping sound on the glass caught her attention. Turning in the chair, she looked towards the window and caught sight of an unfamiliar bird. But who would be owling her?

Allowing the poor creature into the Manor, she pet its feathers briefly before taking the note tied to its leg. The parchment she picked up was cheap, and flipping it over she noted that the outside of the letter wasn't marked. Well, maybe this was simply a mistake delivery.

Curiosity pulled at her, and she decided to investigate the strange envelope, knowing that it would be rather silly to return something to a sender when the contents might actually be for her. Ripping open the seal, she took the letter out and flipped it open.

She felt her heart stop cold, a flurry of emotions sweeping through her. Was the past ever going to accept its fate? No, apparently not, not if Lavender Brown of all people kept sending her mail.

* * *

**A/n: **Here's chapter three. m going to continue incorporating parts of "His and Her Bruises" into this story to keep things flowing together. Got some ideas/thoughts? Leave a review! Also, if you are reading _"Smittenly Bitten_", there's a poll up on my profile if you would like to take a peek at it :)


	4. Aftermath: Blaise

**A/n:** Here's a new chapter! Enjoy! Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

* * *

Hermione's first reaction was to throw the letter away. Why tangle herself up with the likes of that woman if she just got away from her? It sounded silly, but nonetheless curiosity was slowly peeking up in her. What could Brown possibly want?

_Probably nothing good. She likely wants to rub it in my face that Ron's going to get out… though I doubt there's any truth to that. No one is going to let him walk free without some sort of repayment, not after everything that was discovered._

Still though, she wanted to know what the woman wanted. Lavender didn't like her at the last trial, so why would she bother owling? Tossing cautiousness to the wind, she broke the seal and ripped the envelope open.

_Granger~_

_Yes, I'm addressing you as such. Considering that you have now divorced Ron, I'm assuming that you're probably using your own name again- unless of course, you've already saddled in with Malfoy, which means you probably already have wedding plans set up. Do you plan to walk out on that marriage as well?_

The brunette bit the inside of her lip, forcing herself to stay calm. Lavender was pushing things.

_Whatever though, it's your life and I suppose you can fuck it up as much as you please. You threw away someone fantastic, and I'm not about to tell you to go back to him. Ron deserves someone who really understands him. Someone like me._

_He's supposed to spend some time in Azkaban, as I'm sure you know. However he's not cut out for that hellhole. Ron may have done some uncharacteristic things in the past, but he wouldn't survive that prison! The place creates madmen, and he wouldn't last there any better than the others have. Everyone comes out of that place as a different person, and it's rare for the change to have been good. Azkaban is an inhumane abyss, one that swallows people's souls. I don't want Ron's soul to disappear there as well._

Scoffing, the woman rolled her eyes. By that point, she wasn't entirely sure Ron even had a soul, much less one that could be saved.

_So I'm going to ask you this once Hermione and I hope you will find it in that 'pure' little heart of yours to hear me out. For whatever fucking reason you've decided to choose a bastard like Malfoy over someone like Ron, and although I'm not going to argue the point I don't really see the logic, but I do have to ask something of you. Take back your testimony. Without it, Ron won't receive this awful sentence-_

It was there that she stopped reading, unable to hold back her laughter. Was the woman completely oblivious to everything? There was no way she could actually be thinking that this would work! Tossing the letter into the fire, she shook her head. Whether or not Lavender was in love with that twisted man didn't matter to her, for she knew he needed to serve his time. The fact that he got a retrial at all was alarming, but so long as their testimonies from the previous trial remained there was simply nothing to worry about. He would still serve time, and that was just fine with her. He deserved so much more for putting her through all of that.

Glad that she got that silly letter out of the way, Hermione turned her thoughts towards other things. She replaced the potion bottle she had been studying into a cabinet, keeping it out of harm's way. Behind her, the door opened, and she turned around expecting to see Draco again. Her right eyebrow arched up as she took in the form at the door.

"I haven't seen you in quite some time," she remarked, crossing her arms at the visitor. He nodded in return, saying nothing as he surveyed the space. "Draco's not in here; Merlin knows where he went."

"I gathered that," Blaise replied, stepping into the room. "I came to speak with him."

"Well, of course. Why else would you be here?"

The man shrugged, and silence set in. Hermione only spoke with this man occasionally, and usually Draco was around to fill the gaps in conversation. Now that it was just the two of them Hermione felt uncomfortable- not because Blaise seemed like a dangerous man- but because she wasn't sure what to say to him. After all, the last time they spoke it was regarding his scar in comparison to the reactions Draco had, and now he knew that she was being abused by her former husband and had hidden at Malfoy Manor. Talking with him didn't sound like an overly enthusing idea just then.

"Heard your divorce went smoothly," the Italian said, attempting to draw them back into conversation, "You know, after all the initial bullshit was dealt with. No one besides Brown sided with him."

"His family did," she said quietly, knowing it was true. The Weasleys might like her- hell, they might even see her point- but Ron was their flesh and blood, and it was their initial reaction to be on his side. She wasn't even sure when they would next speak to each other. "As expected."

"Anyone could see that coming," he replied airily, moving to sit down on the sofa located within the room. "It shouldn't come as a surprise."

"I know, but I have known them for a long time," she snapped, brushing her hair back behind her shoulder. She had known the Weasleys since her first year at Hogwarts, and knowing that the majority of them had turned their backs on her stung a bit. She really did care for the family, no matter how horrid the boy she married was.

"So," Blaise said, suddenly switching topics, "Draco tells me that you've developed some sort of potion to remove the traces of dark magic within the Dark Mark? Handy spell there."

She stopped cold, thankful that he was faced away from her. Why would Draco say something like that, knowing that she was only ninety-percent sure that she could replicate the potion. It was quite possible that the existing bottle was all that remained. Keeping her voice as firm as possible, she spoke. "He did?"

"Yes, and he seemed quite excited by the idea. Merlin knows that he's wanted to escape the pain for ages." Cocking her head at his words, she recalled the last time they were together, discussing this same topic.

_"Does it ever hurt?" she asked, hoping she didn't seem too strange being there. It was later in the day, and Blaise Zabini had been owled to come over. She knew very little of Draco's standpoint with his Italian friend, except that they both had the same mark tattooed on their skin, and Zabini's almost never hurt, where Draco's often did._

_"Rarely," the Italian replied, studying the girl. He hadn't known he was coming over to be inspected by Weasely's wife until he arrived, and there was currently a surplus of questions lingering in his mind. He dared not ask any though, not while the watchful eyes of his friend looked on at them. There was something about Draco that day that had him on edge. The blonde almost seemed uncomfortable having his longtime friend there, and that was an oddity in itself. Blaise could hardly recall a time when the pair disliked the others company. Out of everyone in Slytherin house, they had been the closest to each other. Zabini even surpassed Malfoy's childhood bodyguards on the friend scale, and that was saying something. "I know Draco's often bothers him."_

_The blonde glared at his friend from where he sat for that comment, but held his tongue. The curious eyes of the brunette looked up to witness the exchange, but she didn't seem to understand. If anything, she didn't seem to sense anything happening between the two._

_But Draco did. He knew Zabini threw that remark out to see if she said anything in return. The git was always trying to see if his friend would find someone he liked and keep her at his home, trying to persuade her into marriage. The Mudblood seemed like a far-fetched idea for his usually racist friend, but one never knew. If Draco had to suspect anything, he thought the remark was made to see if her response had any emotions lingering in it that might suggest that they were an item. And Malfoy could clearly see that question swimming in his friends eyes. After all, Hermione Weasely had been missing for a while, only appearing in the public eye on occasion. Everyone knew she didn't live with her spouse anymore._

_"I want to run a test," she said, breaking the long silence. She glanced up at Blaise who sat on the potion table, but he only raised his eyebrows. "Now, I have only done this test a few times and I really don't want to get it wrong. I'm going to run back to my room real quick and look at my notes, and then I'll try it out. I promise, it won't hurt."_

This time, Blaise seemed far more interested in their topic. "Perhaps I should go find Draco," Hermione said, uncertain what she should do. Although she didn't really need Draco's help just then, she wanted his opinion. What exactly was he hinting at? Did he want her to hand over some of the salve, when she actually didn't have very much, and he suffered very little pain?

"Why, he's bound to arrive anyway at one point; this is his room you're sitting in." Twisting in his seat, Blaise studied her, half of his face hidden behind the back of the couch. "You seem quite anxious to get him in here with us, Granger."

"And you're quite eager to talk about the tattoos," she retorted, crossing her arms. "Quite eager indeed."

He shrugged, and she could just barely see his shoulders move over the couch. "I'm curious about what _you've_ done with it," he remarked, sitting up straighter so she could see his whole face now. "Draco also mentioned that you were considering using it on your _own _scar."

Impulsively, her hand clamped over the old word, hidden currently by the sleeve of her jacket. Her cheeks burned, and she wondered if he was speaking like this just to egg her on. "Oh? And what else did Draco tell you?"

The man held up his hands. "Don't get defensive Granger, I'm merely stating a fact. I don't mean anything by it."

"How do you even know what my scar is?" she asked, her voice getting quiet. "Do you even know what it is?"

Cringing, the Italian regretted being so damn cocky. Obviously, he had hit a tender subject. "I might-"

"Do you?"

Sighing, Blaise rolled his eyes. "Yes, alright, I know what it is. Draco had to talk to me about the affairs that day after… after you escaped the Manor during the war. I know what the scar is. I kind of came by to see if you've used the potion on the scar yet?"

"Why should it matter? That potion wasn't meant for you, and it won't be. You're not even in pain!"

Blaise was about to respond, when yet another figure strode through the door. Both occupants of the room snapped their heads around to face the blonde, who looked a bit confused by their cross looks. "What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, glancing at Draco. "Nothing, we were just talking."

"It sounded more like arguing."

"Whatever," she snapped, not in the best of moods after reading Lavender's pathetic letter. The woman was on her last nerve.

The blonde gave her a strange look at that, but didn't rest on the topic. Turning his attention to Blaise, his expression darkened. "Didn't I tell you not to bother her with that potion?"

"I was curious!" he cried, standing with an exasperated look. "Draco, Granger, you two don't realize what you have before you! You could use this for amazing things, help so many people, and yet you're keeping it to yourself. Even htough you mentioned Granger that I'm not in immense pain, it doesn't mean that I wouldn't like to see my tattoo disappear forever. It's not something I'm exceptionally proud of, and any other Death Eaters that have changed your thinking have to-"

"Right there," she snapped, pointing a finger at him, "That's exactly what I'm worried about."

"What?"

"_What_? Who are the most likely candidates to use this? I'll tell you- Death Eaters. Some of you may have changed your ways, reshaped your thinking and become new people, but most of you have not! Some of those tattoos have to be worse than Draco's was, and since so many of us are trying to be _humane _after the violence during the war, doctors are going to give prisoners the treatment if it will ease their suffering! But most of you won't even deserve it! Those who are locked away, those who committed unspeakable crimes; they do not deserve to escape the pain. After what they did to innocent other people, what makes them important enough? I'm not going to exploit my salve so it can help criminals!"

"Don't you think-"

"Shut up Blaise," she snapped, tired of his intrusion. What his true purpose was for arriving was a mystery now, one which she didn't care to figure out. "Just stop, alright? I don't want to listen anymore." Turning to Draco, she huffed. "If you need me, I'll be _somewhere_ else!"

She shoved past him out of the room, heated by the debate. Both men watched her go, thinking very different things. Once the door had slammed shut marking her Draco cringed, wondering where she was going. He still didn't like having her wandering aimlessly, not with his parents around. They could be dangerous, in their own ways.

"Why do you have to push her?" he asked at length, turning to his Italian friend. The man shrugged in return, choosing to study the room instead of looking at him.

"I didn't think she would be so defensive, Draco. Most people want to create something and get their name out there and be famous for it."

"She's already gotten fame from the war, and now from the uprise around her divorce. I don't think she's looking for anymore."

"But this could go beyond the Death Eaters!" the man argued, moving from his place behind the couch to his friends side. "Third-degree burns, battle scars, all those things can exist outside the world of Death Eaters. Although it may have been created for the purpose of the Dark Mark, it has to be able to-"

"I don't know," Draco cut in, looking away, "We haven't tried it on anything else yet. I'm hoping she'll use it on that filthy scar on her arm."

"Ah, yes. I brought that up as well."

Glancing sideways at his friend, the blonde sighed. "Look Blaise, you want out from under this tattoo just as much as I do, and I get it. But Hermione, she's obviously defensive about it. I'm not pushing the topic, and it's best you don't either. She created it, and ultimately she will decide what to do with it. If she really wants to share, you will know."

Grumbling, his friend agreed. Although Draco could understand his anxiousness to be rid of the horrid mark, he didn't much appreciate the man's method of obtaining the salve. He had no right to just go around pestering her like that, especially when she was so serious about the topic. He would have to talk with Blaise about that later, but for now he had something else on his mind.

"I'll owl you later," he said, using this as his dismissive statement to get his friend to leave. "I'm going to need to go find her now."

Already knowing what he was saying, the Italian had no problem joining this conversation. "Lucius still prowling around, getting past those wards of yours?"

The blonde nodded tightly, already moving towards the door. "Yes, you could say that. She also happened upon my mother the other day."

To that, his friend cringed. He had encountered Narcissa on several occasions, and very well knew her condition wasn't the best. "I suppose I have to let you go find her then, else you'll probably start panicking. I don't see why you're always so concerned about following the girl," he continued, "Granger seems fully capable of handling herself."

Draco was already on his way to the door, not pausing even once. "Yes, I know. But that doesn't mean I think she should have to handle my wretched parents either."

* * *

**A/n:** Hope you like it! The groundwork for this sequel is coming together lovelies! Some far more interesting things will be happening soon! Did you like this chapter? Let me know!

For anyone that is into forums, check out The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition! I'm actually in this forum. It's quite large, and we need a certain amount of members to start the competition! It's a team's thing, based off of Quidditch teams and the positions! Confused? Interested? Check it out! Once all positions are full the forum game will begin! You can even be on the team I'm on if you want, if you want to be captain :)

forum/The-Quidditch-League-Fanfiction-Competition/ 134505/


	5. Retrospect: Slytherin

**A/n: **Thanks to my awesome beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

* * *

For Draco, getting into Slytherin was a necessity. Any other house just wouldn't do. His father would be furious and his mother in a fit if he ended up anywhere else, especially Gryffindor. Hufflepuff would be a step up from that silly house, and even then he was looking at humiliation and disrespect from his entire family.

Thankfully, the sorting hat granted his wish. He was now a first-year in Slytherin, and couldn't be happier. The same night that he arrived to school, he owled his father to tell him the wonderful news before bunking down with the new- though unwanted- roommates. And thus began his Hogwarts life.

It really didn't start out as he wanted though. The very next morning after experiencing the danger that was the mail drop-off every morning, he received a letter from his prestigious father, already hounding him.

_Son~_

_You understand school isn't meant to be fun and games, don't you? You're there to study and keep amongst your Slytherin friends. When I attended school there with your mother they didn't let in quite as many unworthy students as they do now. Mudbloods of the like litter the halls there- don't you let them even brush against you! Too many encounters with those wretched creatures and we will have to buy you new school robes._

_Blaise and Pansy should be in attendance in the same house as you I presume, and if that's not true then I don't want to hear a word about you conversing with them! Do not lower yourself Draco; Slytherin will always be the superior house, and anyone anywhere else doesn't deserve your time of day. Don't waste minutes on them._

_I have heard there is a… special boy attending school with you this year. He's your age actually. Harry Potter- the boy wonder? Is he honestly there is it more bollocks that the people in Diagon Alley are spreading. Word has it he's there, and the Lord would be quite happy to know his whereabouts. Don't fret son, you'll meet the Lord soon enough._

_Let me tell you though, if you were to be the first one to send word about Potter's presence there, it would really look good in the eyes of the Lord. He might even praise you for being so resourceful. I know you haven't formally met him yet, but formalities for him are a bit overrated. For now you must put your trust in me, and speak to him in due time._

_Don't disappoint me son. I am putting a lot of faith in you to uphold the Malfoy name here. Don't embarrass the family, even at the mukluk school. _

_~Father_

The letter was cold and to the point, just as Draco's father was. Before his first class he bolted upstairs and wrote a hasty reply, having finally gotten to hear stories of the grand Dark Lord that summer, and the rumors of his return. Draco was a firm believer that the man would come back and rid the world of the Mudbloods- though he had yet to completely understand the implication of that word- and for that he thought the man was a true god. Knowing he himself was a Pureblood, the child knew that anything less than pure was worthless. He had known that lesson since birth.

Draco would do anything to earn his father's- and the Dark Lord's- approval. He wanted that more than anything else.

* * *

Sneering was easy. Understanding why he was so bloody mean was something else. Draco always thought his behavior was common, for everyone he hung around before Hogwarts walked with the same arrogant swagger that he did, yet at school it was frowned upon. Anyone outside of Slytherin looked on at him and his fellow classmates with disapproving looks, and he tried to not let it affect him. They weren't in Slytherin after all, and that made them practically useless.

Pansy and Blaise really didn't frequent around him too much outside the common room. When in the eyes of the rest of the school they had their own cliques, and occasionally walked and talked beside Draco for what the blonde would like to consider popularity rankings. Everyone- even the upperclassmen- in the school knew who he was, and he strutted through the halls with his head held high and a smirk on his face. In his mind, he was on top of the world.

Yet he couldn't get close to Potter. The boy wanted nothing to do with him, and in all honesty Draco didn't care much for him either. But his father demanded details on the boy, and that meant that Draco had to comply. But his child-like attention span only lasted so long, and he often grew bored of taunting Potter, trying to figure him out. He had better things to do, like practice his flying.

It really irked him that bloody Saint Potter was already on the Quidditch team and he wasn't. There wasn't anything special about the boy!

He acquired some goons that followed him around only a few days after school started. He called them Crabbe and Goyle, as did everyone else. Though a bit slow at times, they were easy to order around. And Draco quite liked that.

He found the quality quite nice one day while stalking through the library, finding there too be too many annoying people outside to handle, and the Great Hall was shut off. Up there though he was certain he could cause some trouble somewhere.

Wandering around a corner, he quickly shoved his goons back. Sitting at a table with far too many books for her frizzy head to process sat Granger, Potter's little friend. His father believed her to be a Mudblood, though he didn't dare call her that yet. He was told to not start too many fights with Potter yet, and picking on his ugly friend probably wouldn't keep the two boys out of an argument.

Peering around the corner as inconspicuously as he could, he studied the girl. Without her short friends at her sides, the girl really looked stupid. Sitting alone in a library with no friends on a Saturday afternoon, reading? At least when she had Potter and Weasel she was a loser amongst losers. Now she was just totally alone.

And totally vulnerable. He bet it would be easy to attack the girl, what with her head buried so far into a book she might as well be part of it. She would never see them coming, and then he would have something exciting to write in his letter back to his father; he'd be able to tell him that he degraded a Mudblood.

Stepping from his hiding place lazily, Crabbe and Goyle were quick to follow suit. Granger didn't even look up until they were in front of her table, and Draco slammed his hands down on the table for affect, startling the witch and causing her to drop her book. She looked up immediately at the blonde, her eyes narrowing.

"Malfoy? Get out of here; you don't belong in the library!" She reached for her fallen book, but with a gentle wave of his hand Crabbe was stepping on the text, stopping her from picking it up. She bolted upright at that, crossing her arms over her chest. "Run out of people to bother?

"We thought you could be the next victim," he said, smirking at first Goyle and then Crabbe. "Want to play a game?"

"No," she said, standing her ground. "I want you to leave!"

"There we go, she's standing up for herself now," Malfoy said, laughing with his goons as the girls cheeks turned red. "Don't feel bad Granger, we're laughing with you- I mean, at you!"

"No one wants to deal with you, Malfoy, least of all me." While Crabbe was distracted trying to decide whether or not he should still be laughing, Hermione swooped down and stole her book away from under his foot. "Now why don't you go back to the dungeons, you snakes! I'm here in the library to study, not to be bothered by a bunch of brainless dolts!"

The blonde's expression darkened. "Are you calling me brainless Granger?"

"I don't need to answer that question if you have to ask!" she spat, moving to sit back down but the blonde caught her arm. "Let go of me, Malfoy!"

"No one calls me brainless!" he cried, giving her a hard shove. She stumbled back into her chair and toppled over, her head hitting the ground. It hurt, but she kept her wits about her. Malfoy wasn't just engaging in mindless banter anymore, he was actually pushing her around.

"You should watch who you call names," he snapped, standing over her. "Crabbe, Goyle, grab those books- not the library ones, the personalized ones!" They tossed him three books, one that was large, boring, and had something to do with Hogwarts on the front, another plain book with just her name on the front, and the final one that was blue and had something written in what appeared to be latin on the front. Grinning, he pulled out his wand and cast a spell.

"Don't play with the big boys unless you can handle yourself Granger!" he spat, laughing again along with his bodyguards as the books shredded themselves before her eyes. Despite herself, her lips trembled, watching the three items be destroyed by the blonde's wand right in front of her. Lurching while he was distracted, she snatched her wand off the table and pointed it at him, leveling it with his as the books fell into a pile of shreds on the floor, useless now.

The boy was still cocky. "Going to hex me now Granger? The only thing there is to shred is my clothes, and I don't think any of us want that!" He inwardly shuddered at the thought of being undressed in front of her, already knowing that he would need to clean his hands at least ten times more before bed to get the Mudblood disease off his hands. "You can't do anything!"

His taunting seemed to be what drove her, and without considering her actions she called out a spell, watching triumphantly as his hair on each side was cut off about three inches, leaving very little hair left on his head. The blonde immediately gaped, reaching up wildly even as he watched his cut-off locks fall to the floor. Now he was mad!

"You insolent girl!" He cried, but her wand was still leveled, "Do you know how perfect my hair is! You're harming it by cutting it off with _magic_! Only a trained hair-cutter with scissors is allowed to touch my hair! Now it's going to be damaged for years!"

Hermione gave him a bemused smile as he ran away from the area, his hands touching the sides of his head as he went. The two boys he came with hurried after him, the trio making enough noise to actually draw the librarian's attention. It made her feel better, if only a tiny bit.

Turning back, she looked down at her books. Shredded now was Hogwarts: A History, and she would have to get that replaced ASAP. Her journal was gone as well, documenting all the amazing things she would see while at Hogwarts, along with a thin book she had been reading for enjoyment, all because Malfoy wanted to be a prick. Stupid boy.

She wiped her eyes, refusing to cry over something the blonde had done. It was over now, and in the aftermath he seemed more upset by what happened than she did.

It was something at least.

* * *

Draco was furious. The Granger girl wasn't supposed to one-up him like that! Now he would have to use even more gel in his hair to hide the fact that it was shorter! Pansy liked the look though, and that was something at least. If nothing else, he was still attractive.

He sent his father a message about his little library incident, tagging it onto the end of a typical letter, leaving out the fact that she retaliated. His father replied proudly, glad that his son so willingly followed in his footsteps.

Draco was ecstatic with that response. He gloated to Blaise for days who stared on at him in interest. Only one thing bothered him about the experience, and it was something he shoved back in his mind, refusing to think about, even once. He tried to pretend it wasn't there, but it was.

In the limelight of things, he almost felt bad for destroying her books and seeing the girl nearly cry. He was taught to respect women, but she was a Mudblood and below him, so it was different, right? Yet, the sadness in her eyes haunted him for days to come.

He wasn't actually feeling bad about what he did… was he?

* * *

**A/n:** So before the bashing begins, I know it's been a bit and I apologize! I live in Colorado with all the crazy fires and some people I know lost their homes so I've been helping out. On top of that I had my dance recitals this past week and it really wore me out. So since life is crazy right now I can't guarantee superfast updates my loves, but I will guarantee that the updates will continue, hopefully on a weekly basis. Fair at least? :)

On another topic, thoughts on the chapter? I know most of us prefer aftermath chapters to retrospect, but I wanted to highlight Draco's feelings in the beginning of it all versus how things developed into the retrospect chapters in HAHB and his life in general.

So…. Thoughts? Let me know lovelies! It always helps to get reviews and opinions!


	6. Aftermath: Vulnerable

**A/n: **Here's chapter six! I hope you enjoy this story darlings :D Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

* * *

Hermione wandered quickly through the halls of the Manor, her temper still high. Blaise might see the never-ending good that could come from mass-marketing her invention, her_ spell_, but she saw the bad. Sadistic people could catch wind of her spell, and use it to hide the damage they did to victims, erasing physical evidence. She could come up with a million reasons why her potion shouldn't be shared, but didn't want to list them just then. She was irritated with Blaise.

He didn't have the right to state an opinion as far as she was concerned. Hermione wasn't an idiot; she knew he wanted his Dark Mark to disappear just as much as any other reformed Death Eater. Only, she wasn't sure she wanted to help him. The woman feared that if she helped him, she would have to help another, and then another until everyone knew of it. It wasn't that she was a selfish person, but instead was afraid of what people would do with her new potion. That scared her more than anything. Blaise didn't seem like a bad person really, but did she want to share? She wasn't sure.

Rounding a corner, she quickly backtracked and smashed herself against the wall, her eyebrows shooting up. Peering cautiously around the same stretch of wall again, she found the object of her surprise and felt her brows lift even higher.

She'd found Lucius. It wasn't like this was entirely surprising, considering that she had crossed paths with him a few distanced times before, but this suddenly seemed different. Didn't Draco just have the wards enhanced? Did that mean that only his parents couldn't cross over into different wings of the house, or that none of them could? If none of them could, then Lucius was actually trapped in the wrong wing of the house!

_Or maybe I'm in his section of the Manor. I don't know where I've wandered to at this point. I don't see why Draco must keep the wards up anyway; I can handle both of his parents, as I have proven. Why he's so concerned escapes me. I didn't survive the war by being a coward. _

But it wasn't the fact that she'd found Lucius that had her so surprised; no, it was the way she found him. Usually he was lurking, speaking crude things to her and trying to be evil. He always stood tall, cane or not, and tried to tower over her. Now though, she could mistake this side of him for a completely different person entirely.

He sat against the wall, knees pulled to his chest. Every now and then he would rock between his bum and his feet, only to return to his bum again and the stability of the wall behind him. His face looked taut, as though he hadn't had a drink in ages. The cane appeared to be nowhere around. Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing; Lucius actually looked _vulnerable_. She'd seen him look weak, fearful, angry, enraged and cocky, but never so fragile. It had her mind in an uproar, jostling her image of Draco's father. He was a mean, evil, nasty, shunned Death Eater, not someone who could appear helpless or vulnerable. This simply wasn't right.

Yet here was a perfect example of Lucius being fragile, right before her. She never thought she'd see the day.

_Why does Draco seem so concerned for his mother's wellbeing, while his father is seemingly just as broken?_

Narcissa might seem utterly crazy, but in this moment Lucius looked completely unlike himself. She knew that both the elder Malfoy's spent time in Azkaban for their treachery and their aid with Voldemort, but she never honestly put any thought into how deranged it could make a person. Sure, she'd seen Rodolphus and his crazy ways, Bellatrix and her insane manner, but those were people who she knew to be crazy from the first moment they met. By the time their paths crossed, Azkaban had already poisoned their minds and done its damage. Lucius and Narcissa had not yet seen the walls of hell, or suffered in a prison where the light did not shine.

It obviously did things to people, things Hermione didn't rightly approve of. For a moment her mind drifted to Ron, and the fact that he would indeed be in Azkaban for a year, at least. Would he come out a twisted, unfamiliar human to those who knew him as well?

_Don't even start thinking about him! You got what you wanted; he's going to pay for what he put you through. Why should you feel bad about that? Everyone who is found guilty and sentenced is automatically put into Azkaban. They have prisons like this around the world! It's not just Britain that has this awful place under its radar, terrifying criminals every day. Maybe he needs a good scare; maybe he needs to know what it's like to be fearful._

_Or maybe Lavender has a point; Azkaban is inhumane, and Ron won't do well-_

Hermione cut her thoughts off, stepping back into the other hall again to shake her head. Was she mad? Although there were things that were still being altered since the end of the war, that didn't mean that Azkaban would be one of them. People usually didn't put much thought into the prisoners there, since most of them bought their way in there through their own actions. Criminals did the crime, and they paid the time. That's the way things worked. And since they made people suffer, why couldn't the court of law make them suffer in return? That had to be the reason why Azkaban was so treacherous, so feared. No one actually wanted to have to go there, and more than a few people had tried to plead insanity to avoid being placed in the prison. Very few actually got off on that count.

She frowned. Maybe that was how Lavender planned to use the retrial, the useless trial that Hermione didn't need to be present for because her testimonies and memories were already there, magically documented. Would Brown really try an insanity plea there?

_I hope not. Although it probably wouldn't work, I don't want to take the chance. If Ron gets off for insanity, then there really isn't any justice in the world. _

Peering around the corner again, her eyes flashed. Lucius wasn't there anymore, and she didn't like that. The last thing she needed was to be snuck up on.

"Wandering the halls again?" came a voice from behind her. She jumped around, startled, and found Lucius Malfoy towering over her once more. The sense of vulnerability was gone, once again replaced by an angry sneer. "Draco let you wander so far into the Manor? Into my own wing?"

"Draco doesn't tell me where I can and can't walk," she said briskly, irritated that he actually thought she let his son boss her around. Why ever would she? "I was exploring."

"That can be dangerous you know," he replied, leaning in closer. "This place is full of secrets."

"Exactly," she said, unwilling to be affected by him now that he knew she was there. Whatever that moment of weakness was, it was gone now, replaced by the cold being she had known for so long. "Now if you excuse me, I'll continue on my way."

"You don't want to stay and chat?" he hissed, shoving his cane across the rest of the hall to block her. It really didn't do anything, and placing her hands on her hips, and leveled her eyes with his own as she stepped over the cane, not affected by his attempt to keep her there.

"If I don't listen to your son's warnings, why would I listen to your attempted threats?" she asked, taking a few more steps to put some distance between them. "You're not scary anymore Lucius. I've grown up and I've developed my skills, whereas you seem to only have wallowed in your misery. Do you find enjoyment in scaring anything that moves, or is that a pleasure saved specifically for me? I don't know why I would be anything special; I don't even really get scared of you. You're nothing of what you used to be."

"Bitch!" He moved to swing his cane, but she saw the action coming and jumped out of the way, snapping her wand out of her pocket. In one smooth move following Lucius' fumbling swing, she had the cane flying out of his grip, using an altered spell of the one Harry used first year on the troll in the bathroom. The man appeared stunned that she had taken his weapon so easily.

"I'd prefer that you at least try to have a civil conversation before swinging at me," she snapped, crossing her arms. "I've been swung at enough times lately Lucius to know not to take it anymore, least of all from you! I thought Malfoys were supposed to have _class _and _dignity_ or something. Or at least, that's the impression I always got from the way you carried yourself during my school years, thinking you and your son and your wife were better than anyone else. Times have changed, Mr. Malfoy. I'm your equal now; blood status is obsolete. You can stop with the name calling and the _Mudblood_ word now, if you please. I should probably yell at you more, come up with something awful to say to you, but I don't have the motivation anymore."

"Shut up," he hissed, gripping the sides of his head. "Stop being _nice_!"

"Is being kind and negotiable a sin?" she asked, almost mocking him. "Trust me, I have no intention to try and be nice to you after all of these years, but I won't engage in mindless fighting with you either. If it's escaped you so far, I am staying at the Manor for the time being. Hell, I might be here permanently, I don't honestly know yet. But if we have to engage in enraged discussions and violent actions every single time we meet in these halls the days are going to seem endless. I refuse to have to defend myself for every step I take in this place! Get over yourself; you have no wand, apparently no sensibility, and I doubt that you've seen your wife in ages! I've probably seen her more recently than you have!"

He stopped cold at her words, dropping his arms and staring at her with wide eyes. Immediately, she knew he had his complete and utter attention.

"It amazes me how differently your son treats you two; he shuns you, barking orders and sneering rude comments at you every time I've seen the two of you talk since the war ended, yet he cares for your wife with the upmost care. It's like he uses honey on her and vinegar on you. Perhaps if your bloody mannerisms would shape up, since you can obviously understand me and aren't quite as deranged as I believed previously, he might speak civilly with you, or at least as civil as he can after everything that's happened between the two of you. I don't know why you have to play the part of the grumpy old man so well. You might be good at it, but it doesn't mean you should."

She planned to say more, but let the words die in her mouth as the older man suddenly turned away. "You've seen Cissy?"

Completely caught off guard, it took her a moment to recover from his abrupt question and actually form an answer. "Well, yes. For the first time since being here actually. I don't see why-"

"Is she better?" he whispered, sounding more human than she had ever heard him. She could feel her eyebrows rising on her head again.

"Better? This is the only time I've ever seen her; I have no idea."

Lucius was already walking away towards his discarded cane, using the wall for support. Hermione was quite stunned at how quickly that ended. "Never mind, Granger. Be gone with you."

_Did he just call me Granger instead of Mudblood? What in Merlin's name is going on?_

She watched silently, waiting for the man to turn around and sneer something rude at her about getting lost. But he never turned back after his last comment, hobbling over to the place where his cane lay and he bent feebly to pick it up. She never realized how much he actually used that cane for support. Without sending her a second glance, he resumed walking with his cane for balance now; wandering around the corner she had originally spotted him from.

Hermione felt completely lost then, and turned around numbly to wander in the direction she had come from.

_Did I just shut Lucius up by mentioning his wife? I wonder how long it's been since he saw her, or Draco allowed him near his mother. Considering the relationship the two had when Draco was a child, it doesn't surprise me that he would want that man as far from his broken mother as possible. But still… he seemed disheartened by the mere mention of her. Lucius Malfoy isn't able to love though, is he?_

She couldn't answer her own question. Her rushed walk did more than blow off her steam; it set up a new string of questions. Was Draco keeping his parents apart for a reason? Did he know that his father might wish to see Narcissa?

He had to treat the two adults so different for a reason; she was positive of that at least. But did he even give his father a chance anymore, or did he just assume the man was a deranged, heartless bastard and shove him to the sidelines? She wasn't sure.

Now she had plenty of questions for Draco. And hopefully, Blaise would've left so she could have this talk in peace.

* * *

**A/n:** There it is, a new chapter! It's different I know because there's no Draco, but don't be concerned, he'll be right back in the next chapter! So what did you think of Hermione and Lucius' little talk, hmm?

Keep reviewing guys; they really do help. And as for updates, I'm hoping to keep them frequenter, but like I said, no promises right now! At least this one was fast :)

* * *

On another note, my Quidditch League Competition had finally started up and the first prompt is now posted under my profile! It's called "Shadowed Happiness", and for once it's not a Draco/Hermione story. It's also got a way lower rating, and this competition is really stretching me to try new things, yet it's only round one! If you're interested, check it out! It's a Cho/Cedric friendship story :)

You can also check out my new Dramione story "Where are Your Parents?"


	7. Aftermath: Seamus

**A/n:** Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

* * *

Draco found her wandering the halls not long after she left his father, concern spread across his face. She refused to tell him why she seemed so irritated, and said that once they returned to the room- and Blaise was gone- that she would love to discuss things with him. And that's exactly what they did.

"I spoke with your father," she said, sitting down on the bed. He remained standing several feet away from her, his eyes growing a hair. "I discovered a few things."

"Don't listen to a word he says," the blonde spat, rolling his eyes, "Nothing honest has ever come out of that man's mouth. He's untrustworthy."

"He's also holed up in a section of this Manor all alone without a soul to talk to. Don't get me wrong Draco, my opinion of Lucius certainly isn't a good one, but nonetheless I think that something about the current condition your parents are living in isn't right. For one thing, they both appear to be completely unstable."

His eyes flashed. "What do you know about stability, Hermione? You don't have problems like this with your parents; you don't know the first thing about this situation. Don't _even_ go there."

Hermione could tell that the topic had him feeling weary, but that didn't stop her from asking questions. He may not want to talk about this, but after her discussion with Lucius there were some things that couldn't be ignored. "You treat your parents so differently."

"They both deserve the treatment they are given, alright? End of story."

"Your father seems to be just as fucked up from his trip to Azkaban as your mother," she pointed out, placing her hands on her hips. "Granted, your mother doesn't seem to have her wits about her-"

"Don't talk about her like that!" he yelled, getting defensive. She sighed, knowing this wouldn't go well.

"I don't mean to be offensive," she said honestly, looking away. "I'm just telling you what I see Draco. Your mother is barely there, holding onto her strings of sanity just barely. She isn't really all there anymore, and honestly I think she would be much better off at St. Mungo's getting some proper-"

He spun away and slammed his hand into the wall, cutting her off mid-sentence. She watched him then, completely unfazed by his blatant act of anger, knowing he wouldn't hurt her, but that he desperately needed to vent. The topic wasn't a peachy one, and with every word she could see his defenses rising more and more.

"Just stop, Hermione. You don't know what you're talking about, okay? I've been dealing with my parents like this since they were released, and trust me it's the only they that they seem to be able to fucking exhibit."

"And I'm assuming that you have never asked for an outside viewpoint on the matter? Well, I am that viewpoint Draco, and I don't think this set-up is going to reap benefits for you anytime soon."

He glared at her, clenching and unclenching his fists, looking for something else to hit besides his wall. She was treading dangerous water, and he didn't want to swim so far out. Why couldn't she just drop the subject? "I don't care, okay? I've decided that this is how my parents have to live in order for me to still see them, so therefore it's staying this way! Everything here is fine now; the wards are in place-"

"Everything isn't alright if you need those wards Draco-"

"-and I have house elves to help make sure their alright-"

"You father-"

"And it's not changing!" he spat, his tone rising. "This isn't your house Hermione, you don't just get to come in here and tell me that what I'm doing is wrong."

She scoffed. "You did that to me!"

"That's because I found you practically acting like a stripper! This is an entirely different situation; I saved you from abuse. I don't need to be saved from anything!"

"You're right," she snapped, standing, "You don't need to be saved Draco! And you're right; the situations are entirely different. You saved me from Ron, you took me out of a situation where nothing good could happen to me from that point on, but you fail to see the flaws in your plans here. You think that keeping your parents shrouded from the world will help, that by keeping them away you can keep them close, that you can see them whenever, but you're missing the rest of it. They're not going to get better here Draco; they aren't getting the help they need. I understand your feelings regarding them differ greatly, but the point is that neither of them will heal if they remain concealed here, only ever receiving the care of the house elves and occasionally seeing one other human- you. It's not going to make this better."

He turned away from her again, unwilling to look at her as her words clouded his mind. He didn't want to fathom that what he was doing could be wrong, that he might actually have to let them leave the Manor. "They can't leave Hermione; they're too scared. Azkaban scars everyone's mind, no matter how strong-willed a person can be. I refuse to send them out in the world."

"Not into the world," she reminded, trying to get him to see her point, "Just to St. Mungo's. They're only going to continue to deteriorate as the days pass, Draco. By keeping them here you're not allowing them to heal from their time spent in that hell. I know they must've suffered, I know that it would've been difficult-"

"You know nothing!" he spat, remaining faced away from her, "You were always on the same side. Everyone knew where you stood. My parents bent with the wind, hopping over to assist your side when we realized that Voldemort would fall. They were hated in Azkaban because people couldn't be sure we were one-hundred percent loyal to either side. They were outcasts. And it didn't help that my family had fallen from Voldemort's graces, and were practically hated by everyone. People despised them. And they suffered for it."

She was silent for a moment, biting her lip. What was she supposed to tell him? That she knew what it was like to be hated? She'd been hated her entire life by people, simply because she wasn't born to magical parents! He knew that, yet he was too caught up in his own emotions to apparently take some of the facts into account. Instead of replying to his rant, she turned away from him as well and snatched up her wand, storming over to the floo. He heard the footsteps, and glanced over his shoulder to watch her.

"You're not the only person who ever has problems in life, you know," she snapped, grabbing some floo powder. "My life isn't peachy all the time either, but at least I'm trying to help you! You don't have to like what I say, Draco, but you don't have to be an arse about it! Why don't you cool down?"

"Where are you going?" he asked curiosity peeking through his voice despite his frustration.

"Out," she snapped, "You obviously need some time to be alone and think over things. I don't know if it'll actually do any good, but I'm going to give it a go! Diagon Alley!" She disappeared with a roar of the fireplace, leaving the blonde alone in his room.

After she was gone, he sat on his bed and let off a slew of curses. Why did women have to be so bloody complicated?

* * *

Hermione didn't really have a destination in mind when she left Draco's, she just wanted to get away from him. If the topic was a sensitive one for him, fine, she could understand that, but he was kind of rude to her when they spoke on the matter, and she initially decided he needed some space. Whether or not that would make things better or worse later had yet to be determined, but she hoped it was the latter.

Wandering through the streets of Diagon Alley she wondered how she could get her point across. He could be as stubborn as he wanted, but the fact of the matter remained that she didn't think this would help his parents one bit. Of course he had his reasons for keeping them there, but they were reasons she didn't understand. More than anything, they needed to visit St. Mungo's and get some help, before their minds were too far gone. She didn't want him to lose them.

Wandering past one of the shop windows, she did a double take. Inside Seamus stood, speaking with a few of his friends. The thoughts coursing through her mind while speaking to Lucius popped up, and she pursed her lips. Wouldn't be ideal to just voice her suspicions to him now, instead of waiting around to see if she was right or not? If she could get it confirmed, she could stop that bollocks with Lavender before it even began.

_Draco will have a fit if he tries anything, though. I suppose I'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen._ Stepping into the shop, she didn't let herself think twice about this decision. She would overthink things if she did.

It was a herbs shop, selling items varied from food to potion ingredients, to charms to help ward off certain things. Hermione barely paused to stare at anything however, making a beeline for Finnegan. The sooner she got this over with the better, and then she could be on her way.

He noticed her approaching, and quickly directed his attention to her. "Hello Hermione, fancy meeting you here," he said, brushing back his hair as he turned away from one of his friends. The man glanced Hermione's way before turning to focus on someone else at his side.

"Finnegan," she replied, deciding to not sugar coat anything; he might get the wrong idea, and then she really would have a problem. "Can you talk a moment?"

"Sure," he replied, grinning as they stepped away from his friends to a different part of the store. "What's on your mind?"

"What do you know about the retry Lavender is doing for Ron's case?" she asked, cutting straight to the point. He frowned a bit at that, apparently hoping she would want to discuss something different.

"Not much; she wasn't too big into sharing things once she realized that my interest in helping her was no longer there. Outside the initial idea, I don't know anything anymore."

"What was your original reasoning?" she asked, blurting out the question. It wasn't something she should've done, not when she was there for other reasons.

He shifted his weight to his other foot, glancing away from her. "Nothing."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Won't you tell me though? The case is over, and I must say that's something that's been eating at me for a while. I thought we were friends, especially after all that time we spent together at the club. The fact that you decided to help Ron and Lavender did hurt me a bit."

The man glanced away, recalling some nasty things he said to her when she initially decided to work with Malfoy- who back then was frequenting the pub a lot- and they were some things that he did indeed regret. He was cruel to her in a way, and his attitude towards her hadn't been the greatest since. He clearly recalled his flawed mannerisms when he gave her that bloody note, just before the trial; the note they never actually used.

_I didn't quite expect to meet you at the café today," he began, holding up his opposite hand. She didn't even take notice of it, conscious that he might try to overpower her at any moment._

_"Lucky chance?" she asked, acid in her voice._

_"The plan hasn't been entirely worked out," he snapped, eyes darkening. "I made a deal with her a few weeks back to help her keep Ron out of jail, and in return… in return I could have you."_

_Her eyes flashed. "As if Seamus! You don't just get to decide who you want and have them come to you! I wouldn't let you have me as it is."_

_"I've noticed," he snapped bitterly. "When I ran into you outside that shop a while back, I didn't expect to see you there. I was already collaborating with her by then."_

She knew he wanted her originally, but she wondered if he would answer the same now. That note had never been explained, its origin and reasoning a mystery in her mind. And if she could use this moment to fill in that blank, then she would.

"The fact that you decided to pair up with Malfoy hurt _me,"_ he replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I spent ages at that bar defending you when you were too entangled in that Ron mess to even save yourself. How couldn't you see that I wanted you? It was quite obvious Hermione, but you chose to block that knowledge. And then, after everything, you shared your problems with Malfoy, and you decided to date Ferret, the one we hated in school. It was like a knife to the heart."

She frowned. "What? Seamus, I was never hanging around you at the bar to date you; I thought we were just friends. I never actually realized that you wanted me back then, not until you screamed it in my face that day."

"And you won't want me now," he replied bitterly, the conversation taking a turn for the worse.

"No," she replied after a moment, "I'm sorry, but no. I'm with Draco now."

He scoffed. "Right. And where is the bastard tonight?"

"Dealing with some finances," she lied, never missing a beat. For some reason she didn't want this man even knowing that she had a dispute with Draco. "I decided to go out for a while since he's busy."

"Charming," he spat, shifting his weight again. "Look Hermione, if that's all you wanted-"

"Actually, it's not," she cut in, causing him to lift an eyebrow. "You never answered my question."

"_Actually_, I did. I answered both in fact. I don't know anything about the retrial, and I have no intention of being involved in it, and neither should you."

"I'm not," she said, placing her hands on her hips, "But Lavender keeps sending me mail."

"Does she now?"

"Yes, and I'd like to at least understand what's going through her head when I receive these ridiculous notes. She didn't share anything with you?"

He raised an eyebrow again, leaning closer to her. "Why should I share anything with you, hmm? What good will it do me?"

"You might redeem yourself," she said, leveling her eyes with his. "People might not think you a fool, but I've lost respect for you."

"That doesn't affect me anymore, Hermione. Try something else."

"I'm just making sure she has no leverage of to get him off for what he did!" she hissed, working to keep her voice low. "She has to have something up her sleeve or a retrial wouldn't even be considered."

He watched her for a moment, seemingly thinking over his options. "She mentioned something about insanity; I don't know what she's planning or how she even plans to accomplish anything with that lie, but that's what she said. It's all I ever heard about, alright? I don't know anything else."

_I was right. She's going to try and keep him out of Azkaban entirely by using the insanity plea. _

She could feel her heart stop. She didn't honestly think Ron would get off with that since everyone knew he was insane but not mentally unstable, yet she couldn't help wondering suddenly if Lavender would pull something out of her arse to try and prove the point.

It was a moment before she responded, swallowing her uncertainty. "Thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome," he said, observing her face. "Don't look so worried; it's not going to work. You're bloody relationship with Malfoy isn't in danger."

"That's not what I'm afraid of," she replied, closing her eyes. She could hear him sign.

"One more thing Hermione; don't trust anything that she sends you."

Her eyes flew back upon. "What? Why?"

He glanced around, apparently unsure whether or not he should continue. "Look, remember the note I gave you?"

"Yes," she said uncertainly, her interest peeking up.

"It was a tracking device. Lavender had it in her head that you'd hold the information to be true- which you obviously didn't- and thought you'd keep it with everything else whenever doing interviews or studying the case. Apparently your lawyer threw it into a filing cabinet however and its purpose was never fulfilled."

"What purpose?"

"It was supposed to be able to record words through a linked piece of paper she had. The information on it was completely made up, and your lawyer was smart to ignore it. Everything that ended up being recorded ended up being useless for Lavender because none of it pertained to the case."

Her eyes flashed, wondering immediately what kind of spell was placed on the papers. But as she processed what she said, a light bulb went off in her head. Obtaining information in such a way would be illegal in the magical world after all… maybe she needed to locate the old note and Lavender's other paper.

"Thank you for telling me, Seamus," she said, smiling genuinely as she realized how much she had learned from this short talk. "This all will help."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, you're welcome. Just don't bring Malfoy around anytime soon and we'll call it even, alright?"

"Deal," she said, hastening to say her goodbyes. Darting out of the store, she looked for the nearest floo system. More than anything, she wanted to jolt everything down she had just learned on a piece of paper before she forgot it, and then she could decide what to do with what she had learned.

Then she could worry about talking to Draco about their argument earlier.

* * *

**A/n:** Don't forget to check out my new stories "Shadowed Happiness" (oneshot), "Lesson 101: Teaching Malfoy some Humanity!" and "Where are Your Parents?"

The piece from "Bruises" is located in chapter 36 (see italicized text).

Let me know what you thought of this chapter! Keep those reviews up and coming darlings!


	8. Aftermath: Interact

**A/n:** A new chapter lovelies! Thanks to my awesome beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter though :/ It seems a bit… detached.

* * *

Draco was sitting on the bed when she returned later, twirling his wand in his hand as he stared down at his lap. At the sound of the floo, he glanced up, and sat straighter when he realized it was her.

"I'm glad you returned," he said, quickly setting the wand down. "Look, about earlier-"

"It was a tracking device!" she cried, rushing to the desk to find some paper. He frowned, suddenly very confused about what she was talking about.

"Excuse me?"

Turning around, she grabbed a quill and jumped on the bed, a book beneath the parchment so she could write. "Remember that note that Seamus gave me, the one we were thinking about using for the trial?'

"Yes?"

"It was a tracking device! I ran into Seamus earlier-"

"What-"

"And he started explaining to me-"

"Hermione-"

"And if what he's told me is true then-"

"Hermione!" She stopped babbling, glancing up at him instead of at the paper. He ran a hand through his hair, calming himself. "Look, I'm glad you're excited, I am. But you're not making any sense. I thought you were coming back to talk about our fight."

"Oh, right," she said, setting the paper aside. During the time that it took her to locate the floo, she got more and more excited with the information she had obtained. Realizing now that he didn't really seem to care about it in that moment, she let the topic slide. "Sorry, it was just something I happened across while I was out. You're right, we should talk about our fight."

He frowned, sitting back against the pillows as he studied her. "Hermione, that isn't something you just _happened_ across. You've been worrying about that re-trial for your ex for weeks. Look, what's done is done, and it's not going to change. The public knows what happened, his family, your friends, me, we all know the truth. And so did that judge. You're obsessing over this for some reason, and I don't know why. An insanity plea or anything else isn't going to get him out of the hole he dug himself, so you need to stop worrying. I don't know why you're so fixated on the fact, but his chance is over. No one will believe anything they have to say, and it's a waste of time. So stop fretting."

"Draco-"

"I'm not done," he said, though he sounded more tired that angry. "You didn't happen upon that information Hermione; you had to seek it out. You must've found Finnegan, somehow, and asked the right questions to find out what you did. You _wanted_ to know things, you didn't _happen_ upon them. But you need to stop looking, okay? At this point you're worrying yourself over nothing."

She pursed her lips, disagreeing with several of the things he had to say there. She didn't want to say that though, not when she could see specks of truth in his words. Was she obsessing? And if she was obsessing, then why was she?

"Okay," she said hesitantly, brushing her hair back, "I'll stop. I'll try to stop thinking on it."

"You don't have to stop thinking about it," Draco reasoned, "You just have to stop worrying about it. He isn't your problem anymore, and you know that. I made sure of it, and so did you. Don't fret anymore about it. Please."

He sounded desperate to be finished with the subject, and she could understand why. This really wasn't his favorite thing. "Alright," she said, giving him a soft smile. "I'll try. Just, give me a bit of time?"

The blonde wanted to point out that he'd already given her a lot of time with the subject beforehand, but resisted the urge to say so. Nodding once, he sat forward a bit again. "Okay, now about the fight."

"Right," she said, clasping her hands together. "Look Draco, I didn't mean to push the subject. I just thought I was doing something helpful at the time by pointing things out to you. Maybe I was wrong though, and I might be overstepping my boundaries. It's not my place to tell you what to do with your parents."

"No, it's not," he said quietly, glancing away. "But you did have a point."

She looked startled, surprised he actually thought anything she said earlier was useful. "I did?"

"Yes," he said, looking away. "I've never really had an outside viewpoint on the matter. Since the war ended and my parents returned here, it's just been me and them. Blaise has seen them occasionally, he even helped me in the beginning, but I don't think he understands the extent of the mental damage. He hasn't seen them in quite a while. I doubt he realizes how much they have… deteriorated."

She nodded slowly. "They're worse than they used to be?"

"Much," he muttered. "Time isn't erasing the damage like I hoped. The fact that you saw my father and thought there was an ounce of humanity in him was startling. From what I recall you're meetings with him here since you started staying here haven't been the best."

"No, they haven't," she agreed, looking away as well, "But I understand that the process from healing after a war can be difficult. My parents weren't too accepting of the matter when I brought them back from Australia after swiping their minds, and they were quite unstable for a while, re-adapting to this life. I've seen slight mental damage in them, the damage caused by being under the spell for too long, and then having those old memories restored."

"Sounds dreadful," he said, making a mental note to question her more on the topic later.

"It was. But I've seen much worse mental damage in others, you know? We all have our problems after what happened, and we all know someone that suffered so much that they're a different person. Ron's brother Percy was like that. He's more withdrawn than he used to be."

"I remember him. I never liked him."

She shrugged. "Most people didn't. But my point is Draco that I was just trying to help. I wasn't trying to offend you or make you mad or insult you, I just wanted to put another point out there. I wasn't trying to be mean; I just… wanted to make a suggestion."

He nodded, reaching forward to grasp her hand as he sighed. "I know, I see that now. Perhaps I overreacted a bit."

She shrugged, smiling. "It's okay, I was touching a sensitive topic."

He pursed his lips. "But it's not though, you know? I yelled at your for stating an opinion, for telling me something that was just an opinion. And I see now Hermione that it wasn't meant to be intrusive or offensive, but simply that I took it that way. Talking about my family is sensitive for me. I blame my father for involving myself and my mother in the war, as well as for the time she was sentenced to in Azkaban. She had far less involvement in the war, yet she suffered the same amount my father did. And in the end it took a worse toll on her. I'm not even sure sometimes if she knows who I am."

Immediately, the atmosphere in the room felt heavier. Hermione could feel the weight of his words, the depression that had to linger in his mind at that thought. It would be awful to know your parent, to see them all the time, and yet have them not know who you are. At the very least, Lucius still recognized him.

She leaned forward, placing a hand on his cheek, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Draco. That must be awful."

He shrugged, letting her hand fall away from his cheek. "Don't be, honestly, it's not your fault. I think it's harder for me to accept than I like to admit that my mother is so far gone. I know my father fairly well at this point, but she is just so hard to understand. Since she's so far gone, we can't really communicate. I guess it's more of a wake-up call than I ever thought it would be to have an outside opinion." He gulped. "Do you really think she should go to St. Mungos?"

Hermione dropped her eyes, thinking over his words. "If she does, there is a chance they won't let her leave. But there's also a chance that they could help her a lot, and then she might recognize you."

"And my father?"

"I think it's the same in regards to him. It depends really on how things are interpreted, don't you think."

He ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't want to lose them to that place," he muttered. "I don't want to never be able to see them again, you know?"

"Then don't make a decision right now," she said, shaking her head. "It's late, so why don't we sleep? In the morning we can go visit your mother. It is your decision Draco on what you think is best for your parents, and I can't push anything. But I think it will help to actually interact with her more, especially now that I know she's here."

"She won't interact in return. She may not notice we're there."

She shrugged, looking up again as she gave him a smile. "Well, at least you'd get to see her. You'll have an easier time making a decision if you interact with them more and really figure out whether or not there's anything more you can do for them, right?"

"Right," he said, sounding nervous. She suspected that it was due to the topic in general, as well as his own doubts and concerns. Crawling across the bed, she brushed her book, quill and paper onto the floor, crawling into bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his torso as she settled against him.

"Don't get so worried, you haven't even gone to see her yet," she reminded. "And who knows, maybe a bit of interaction is just what your parents need to begin healing from what happened in Azkaban. You have spent some time with them, right?"

Silence followed her question, and she realized she was treading dangerous water again. His answer came after several moments, though it sounded strained. "No."

"Well, we'll just have to change that." One hand moved to stroke his arm, attempting to calm him down. "But that's something we have to worry about in the morning."

He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. He knew she was right, but that didn't help calm the nerves forming in his belly. He didn't want to try, and fail, and have no choice left but St. Mungo's. And he feared that, greatly.

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked, eyeing the blonde suspiciously. He seemed uncomfortable now, watching his mother wearily as they stood in her room.

"Fine," he replied, though he sounded funny too. She could tell he was nervous, concerned even, with her state of mind, but he didn't need to be so uptight about it. If he wanted to help her, he really needed to interact with her.

Grasping his hand, she pulled him forwards towards the bed. "Hi Narcissa," she said, ignoring the fact that the woman was more interested with the intricate stitching on her pillow than Hermione herself. "Draco wanted to come see you."

"Hermione," he muttered, eyeing her, "She's not hearing a word you say."

"And she won't if you never talk to her!" she snapped, turning to glare at him. "You have to try and interact, even if she won't respond to you. How will you ever get her to respond if you don't start a conversation?"

He pursed his lips, uncomfortable again. "Hello mother," he said, eyeing her. She didn't respond, and continued to trace the lines on her pillow. He sighed, and looked back at the brunette.

She beckoned with her hand. "Well, keep going. A single, short sentence isn't a conversation."

"Are you sure-"

"Yes," she said, cutting in. Stepping back, she crossed her arms and eyed him. "Do you want to try and reconnect with your mother or not?"

Sighing, he turned back to the woman who once cared for him. "Well, we haven't spoken in quite some time, mother. Let me tell you about this pain in the arse girl staying here, Hermione…"

* * *

**A/n:** I feel very detached from this chapter. Like someone else wrote it. It doesn't feel like me, and I couldn't get into it one bit. I'm just stuck with this story currently. Any ideas lovelies? All reviews and ideas are appreciated :)


	9. Aftermath: Heal

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! Remember you can check out my facebook page if you desire ;) The links up on my profile!

* * *

"I think you did amazing," Hermione said later that night as they settled into bed. "I know you think it's not doing anything, but connecting with your mother in any way can help bring her back. Give it some time Draco, it might have a good effect on her."

The blonde sighed, rubbing his temples. He'd spent at least an hour and a half speaking with his mother, who did nothing to respond to his attempts at making conversation. Frustrated with his inability to even get her to focus on him for more than a few brief seconds, the blonde nearly gave up mid-conversation. It was Hermione that convinced him to continue sitting there speaking to her as though she understood, trying his best to get her to respond.

He just wished he could see progress. He felt like he was talking to air when he spoke to his mother, since she didn't even react to his words, much less respond. He almost detested Hermione for making him do that- almost.

He'd attempted to help her more in that one sitting than he had since her return from Azkaban. He simply didn't know how to handle the situation. But Hermione had an outside perspective, and looked at things better than he could when he was so emotionally attached to the situation.

"I hope you're right," he muttered, covering his eyes with his hand. He just wanted to sleep his troubles away, and forget the entire situation.

He felt his hand being pulled gently away from his face, and opened his eyes to see his brunette girlfriend peering down at him in the dim light. She looked delicious like that, bathed in the faded light, hair falling around her face, eyes twinkling for some unknown reason. Draco could do nothing but focus entirely on her.

"You're stressing yourself out," she whispered, her breath tickling his lips. "You can't get too wrapped up in what you just did, not yet. It takes time to see changes you know. Things won't happen overnight."

"I don't see why they can't," he grumbled, still staring into her eyes. "It would make life so much easier."

"It would," she agreed, bending closer, "But then it wouldn't really be life."

She captured his lips before he could put up an argument, grateful that he melted into the kiss instead of pulling away. They had been tense the past several days, the relationship lacking a bit of passion and romance since she discovered the state his mother was in. It seemed to settle a barrier between them, a barrier that diverted them from touching in any romantic way. She wouldn't necessarily say their relationship was genuinely passionate, for aside from kissing they never really did anything. And she wasn't certain how much more he wanted, just that he'd done far more since their fourth year. He'd gone further with other witches, yet their relationship remained mundane. She wondered why that was. Was it because of the unusual chemistry between them, or because they held back? Or perhaps neither one of them wanted a relationship like that, which confused her immensely. If they never once explored further, searched each other's body's more, then where exactly was this relationship going?

Their mouths opened and her tongue slipped inside his mouth, engaging in a battle with hers. Below her she heard him groan softly, and recalled all the other times in the past when he had done this. Was that all she would ever hear from him?

He saved her from her _husband_. If he didn't want her past kissing, then she honestly didn't understand his comments in the past about her body. He was a puzzle that one, a puzzle that would not easily come together. Draco seemed to like to keep his secrets.

Before she realized what was happening, he flipped their position, placing himself on top of her as he pinned her to the mattress. She could feel a slight bulge against her leg, and she would be lying if she said she didn't get excited at that. If nothing else, she could arouse him.

The kissing heated up, and she gripped his shoulders tightly. She doubted things would progress as quickly as she might prefer that night, but no matter. So long as he still felt something for her like she for him, she wouldn't puzzle about it too much. After all, all great things came in due time.

* * *

The following day Hermione found herself unsatisfied. Although they ended up in a state of undress that they had yet to find themselves in when sleeping together, there was still much left to be desired. He stopped before his boxers could be removed, leaving her in her kickers, her bra tossed someplace in the room during their feverish undressing.

Oh, he touched her. They savored each other, touching and exploring across the exposed skin that they hadn't really played with yet. She loved that he touched her, fingered her, made her moan. But the fact that he pulled away while still incredibly hard concerned her. He refused to go on, declaring that they needed to rest. Put off, she had agreed, but slept facing away from him.

She was beginning to believe he was scared- not of her of course. Certainly not of her, but of what she didn't know. The lust was obvious in his eyes that night, and she thought they might enflame some real passion that night by connecting during sex, as she could see the desire heavy in his eyes. But he pulled away, denying the both of them anymore pleasure, and fell asleep. So since his desire for her was obvious, fear had become her reasoning behind his actions. Why else would he stop so suddenly?

But what was there to fear? She would be an idiot if she believed he was a virgin, and he knew very well that she wasn't one either. So what made him apprehensive? She certainly wasn't scary in bed by any means, so that idea was silly to begin with. Perhaps he was afraid of hurting her, even scaring her? That thus far seemed like the only explanation, and she blamed it on his involvement with the Ron situation. He saw what Ron did to her, how he scared her, how he hurt her. But Draco couldn't honestly be scared of hurting her in that way, could he? He hadn't beaten her, tried to force himself on her or anything of the sort. She just didn't understand his frustration.

It was something she planned to figure out, and then get him to let go of. He had no reason to be concerned about hurting her, or reminding her of Ron. The two of them couldn't be bigger opposites. She wondered if he realized that she knew that.

Sometime, she'd need to discuss that with him. But for the time being, that was out of the question. He was off in his mother's room, apparently finding conversation with the unresponsive woman better than discussing the situation last night. Oh well, he couldn't hide in the Manor forever, no matter how fucking large it was. It would just have to be a conversation for that night, one which she did not plan on ignoring.

She decided that he was a big boy and could handle visiting his mother on his own, thus leaving her with some time all to herself. Although she hinted that she would willingly come along if he needed, he didn't take the bait. And since he didn't, she suspected that he could handle sitting with his mother well enough. It was frustrating, but so long as he didn't come back depressed and downtrodden she wouldn't think too hard on the topic. It was going to be difficult for a while no matter what they did.

As for what she was doing to occupy her time, Hermione had wandered back upstairs to the room once used as a potions lab, replicating the very potion she had created to remove the Dark Mark. No matter how much she tried denying it, she knew that she was going to need more, be it for Draco, herself, or someone else. Sighing as she finished the process, able to recreate the potion quickly now that she'd finally figured out what she'd done, she stared at the contents within. It was amazing that anyone, let alone Hermione herself, could create something like this. It felt surreal to be the inventor of such a potion.

And so many people could use it for bad things, and that's what made her apprehensive about the entire invention. If she wanted to completely annihilate the chance of others discovering her mixture, she could simply destroy the two bottles she had now and forget all about it. But that would also diminish her ability to remove the mark on her arm- if she decided to of course- and it would destroy the final batch Draco needed to remove his own tattoo. Sighing, she glanced at her arm.

_Mudblood._ What a disgusting word. It disturbed her to think that the torture she suffered through, that the word that was carved into her arm happened only a wing away, in the destroyed part of Draco's Manor. A time when Draco wouldn't stand up for her in front of anyone, let alone the people living in this house. Oh how the tables had turned.

She stared at the word, her choices displayed out in front of her. There was always the possibility of removing just part of the word, and keeping a letter or two. The scar did symbolize something she overcame after all; a woman that she fought against and held her own against when she was tortured. Getting rid of it entirely didn't seem fitting.

But what letter would she keep? The 'M' and 'D' were both out of the question, for it would look like Draco had branded her if she did that. No, she would never use those letters. An 'O' perhaps? Or maybe even the 'L'. Narrowing her eyes, something occurred to her.

_I'm overthinking this. I should use that letter! It can have some meaning not just for this scar's remembrance, but also for what's happened since the war, with Ron and everything else. It's the only letter I can think of keeping._

Smiling to herself, she uncapped a bottle, staring down at the contents. Was she really going to remove her tattoo, save for one letter, on a spur of the moment decision all because her mind got stuck on symbolism? Once she stared the process, there would be no turning back. And who knew it might only take one dose of the potion to remove the scar considering that it wasn't laced with anything dark. It was only a scar, not the dreaded Dark Mark.

The door behind her opened and she peered over her shoulder, setting down the bottle for fear of spilling it. Turning on the stool, she watched Draco as he crossed the room, grabbing a stool to sit beside her. He looked tired and worn, and she extended a hand to caress his arm lightly. As soon as he was seated, he rested his head in his hands.

"It's not working," he said, despair heavy in his voice. "She's unresponsive, no matter what I do."

"You have to give it time," she reminded, tracing designs on the bare skin of his forearm. "It will take quite a bit of time and effort to get your mother to respond after all this time. Like I said before, stop getting so hung up on the situation. You're going to stress yourself out."

"I already have," he said, grabbing his hair. "I just don't know what I can do for her. I need to get her out of this state of mind."

Pursing her lips, Hermione spread her palm flat against his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. "You have to remember Draco, you have two parents, not just one. You might not particularly care for your father anymore, but he is still a part of your life; he exists. Perhaps you need to think of them as a couple, as two people that used to be married, be it loveless or not, and not as individual people. Sometimes all people need is to see the one they love."

"I doubt he knows how to love," the man replied, closing his eyes briefly. She felt his tense under her touch, but before she could pull away he relaxed again, opening his eyes to glance her way. "What are you doing in here?"

She beckoned with a lazy flick of her wrist towards the bottles. "I made another small batch of the potion. It took a bit of thinking over the last weeks to recall how it was done, but I made it once more. I even wrote it down this time so I don't forget it."

"Another batch?" he asked, turning to face her now as she raised her head again and sat up. He eyed her suspiciously. "We both know that the batch you had already was enough to diminish the rest of my scar, something I should've done ages ago. Unless you plan on giving a dose to Blaise- which I highly doubt- then you must be planning to use some of it yourself." His eyes fell downward glancing at the wrist that he knew contained the scar. "Am I right?"

She nodded tentively, still surprised that she had decided to remove it. "I'm leaving a letter behind, so I don't lose the memories of the scar and how it helped me grow. I know it sounds twisted, but I did grow from that attack. I toughened my skin, and didn't take anything lying down."

"I noticed," he remarked, still eyeing her arm. "What letter are you leaving behind?"

Instead of replying, she reached for the almost empty bottle and handed it to him, knowing that it was enough to remove the remains of his tattoo and the magic laced within. He took it, and she then picked up the new batch, uncorking the lid. She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll show you; you remove yours, and I'll get rid of mine."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You think that's an agreement? I was going to completely remove mine for the start. If you recall, that was our original deal."

"I do," she said, smiling lightly at him. "And now I've decided that I do indeed need to remove mine. When the potion wears off and we see what's left, you'll know which letter I chose."

Draco frowned. "This letter has a meaning, doesn't it? You're being way to secretive for this to just be a random decision on any letter in the word. I personally don't understand why you would want to keep any of it."

"You don't have to understand," she challenged, still grinning, "You just have to accept it." Leaning forward, she clicked her bottle against his, as a form of 'cheers'. "Ready?"

"I've been ready for ages Hermione," he remarked, pouring the potion on his arm without a second thought. Like before it bubbled, the sensation cool and not at all painful. For Hermione's part, the situation took longer, as she was working to avoid a specific letter, one which Draco couldn't pick out through the bubbles.

Leaning over in his chair, he disregarded the mark on his arm and how his heart seemed to get lighter as the potion worked its magic. Later, he would feel elated; free. He would feel things he hadn't felt in _years_. But for now his attention was focused on Hermione's wrist, curious to see what the witch had decided to do with her scar, and why she chose this mystery letter.

* * *

**A/n:** I think this chapter flowed better than the last. It also felt better to write for some reason. You guys really helped with your ideas last chapter; they gave me tons of inspiration so thank you! Some of them might appear in her amongst the already twisting plot I have. So be ready for that! Now if you would be so sweet please leave a review and comment dearies!


	10. Aftermath: Letters

**A/n: **Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! Hope you enjoy the update.

* * *

His attention was solely focused on Hermione, completely ignoring the feeling he was getting as the dark magic in his blood slowly simmered away as the tattoo was removed. He was far too interested in seeing what she left behind, seeing what made her jump up and make this decision after they had been discussing it for weeks.

The potion sank into their skin, disappearing as it went. He raised an eyebrow at what was left behind on her forearm, touching the skin softly.

"Why 'b'?" he asked, meeting her eyes. "I can understand why you couldn't want 'm' or 'd', but 'b'? That can be inferred to be a crude word too."

"It's light," she said, pulling her arm away. "I put a drop on the letter so it would fade. You have to look closely to notice it." She looked down at her arm, seemingly mystified that the scar was gone. Her skin appeared so naked now, for she had carried Bellatrix's painful reminder for many years. To see that it was gone now was very strange indeed. "I chose 'b' because 'u' or 'o' or even 'l' didn't seem fitting. With 'b', I can at least make it represent something."

"Bitch?" he asked, quickly earning a hard slap for his comment. "Sorry," he said, seeing the fire in her eyes as he ignored his own skin. "I don't mean to sound rude, I just don't see the implication."

"That's because you keep talking before I get the chance to," she said matter-of-factly. "Unlike your desire to say that it represents bitch, it doesn't. It's bravery Draco, and backbone. People always tell me that it's a miracle that I survived her torture when she's known to have killed so many. But I've never seen it as a miracle, not really. If I were someone else, if I caved easily to her and didn't try to resist, then yes, I probably would've died, or lost my mind, or something. But I didn't I'm still here and perfectly sane, despite what some people might think after my horrid marriage with Ron." She shivered at the memories. "But I survived that too, even if the road to escaping was a bit rocky. It took bravery, and it took backbone, to get to where I am today, even if someone had to remind me of my strength along the way." She glanced at him before looking away, knowing that he picked up on the implication.

He smiled, reaching out to gently cup her cheek. "I think it's a lovely analogy."

"But I'm still crazy for choosing the letter 'b'?"

"Not exactly," he said, rubbing the skin of her cheek. "I can see your thinking, even if I don't agree with all of it. You picked something important to you, and that's what matters." He grinned cheekily then. "Leave it to you to actually think about what part of a scar to keep."

Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling as well. "Well, I don't want to just get rid of it! Although I don't favor the person that inflicted it on me, I do appreciate how much it has driven me. After I got this, I was more determined than ever to put people like her behind bars. Obviously, she didn't make it there, but others like her did. It reminded me exactly what I was fighting for, and pushed me to work harder alongside Harry and Ron to accomplish bringing Voldemort down. I don't think I could live in a world controlled by a bunch of twisted, pig-headed people like her."

"Neither do I," he agreed, reaching out to trace his fingers over her arm again, enjoying the feel of smooth, nearly unscarred skin. He could feel the 'b' when his finger passed over it, but as she pointed out it was light, and he didn't notice the crooked letter on her flesh. It was kind of refreshing to no longer see the hideous thing marring her skin.

"Look," she said, drawing the attention away from her as she flipped his own arm over in her lap. He replaced his grip on hers; staring down alongside the brunette at his pale skin, blemish free, something he hadn't seen in over five years. His eyes grew, and he slowly trailed his fingers along the bare flesh.

"It's gone," he whispered, marveling at the flesh. "It's really gone."

"Well, that is why you asked me to do this," she reminded, smiling coyly at the blonde, who ignored her expression entirely. He was too entranced with the fact that his Dark Mark, one of the most dangerous and dark tattoos known to exist, was completely gone. He didn't feel that bit of dark magic dancing around inside of him, hurting him, causing him to think the occasional sinister thought. For the first time in a very, very long time, he felt light, elated even.

"It's really gone!" he said, his voice growing louder, sounding happier, with each word. "I'm free! I'm free from his magic, his curse!"

"You are," she agreed, grinning. Before she really knew what was happening, he was up and off of the stool, picking her up around the waist to swing her around. Placing her hands on his shoulders to keep herself balanced and upright, she looked down at his grinning, overjoyed face as he spun them around a few times.

"You're amazing," he said, finally setting her back down. Brushing her hair from her face, he bent down and smashed his lips to hers in a searing kiss. Her arms tightened and moved from on his shoulders to around his neck, holding him close to him as one kiss turned into many. He just seemed so unbelievably happy about things.

"No," she argued once he had pulled back. "I'm average. I merely strive to do exceptional things."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't try to downplay what you just did Hermione. People have been trying since before we were born to remove that tattoo. And you did it in a few short months. You're truly a force to be reckoned with."

"No," she said again, raising an eyebrow, "I'm just the one to keep up with."

Draco grinned, glad that she would at least take the compliment now. Kissing her again, he couldn't quite remember a time when he felt so light. He certainly didn't feel close to a Hufflepuff or anywhere near like a Gryffindor sap, but he felt lighter. He felt like he could hate the world just a little bit less.

And it was all thanks to Granger, Hermione Granger. He apparently needed her in his life more than he realized, more than he would ever realize.

* * *

"You're going to have to do it at some point," she argued, sitting on the bed later, a book set on her lap. "You can't ignore him forever."

"I can try," the blonde said, crossing his arms stubbornly. Although time had passed since the removal of their marks, he still wasn't overly joyful about anything. He seemed lighter, but he was stubborn as ever, especially about certain topics. "I don't want to speak to that man."

"Whether or not your relationship has ever been as good with your father as it is with your mother doesn't excuse the fact that they are both your parents. If you want them to mend, then you do have to associate with both of them."

"Yes but, I don't want to associate with my father," he said, sitting down at the foot of the bed. "I just… want him to get better spontaneously, for my mother of course."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Just for your mother?"

"Yes."

She shook her head. "Draco, if you were only worried about your mother, then you would only focus on your mother. But we've spoken and in the past and you do mention him, despite your best efforts. You might not have the best history with him, you might not even particularly like him at this point, but he is your father, and despite everything I think part of you is holding onto that single fact. Right now he's truly not himself, for he's so mental that he's acting strange, and he's dangerous in some instances so you've locked him away. That kind of solitude on a person can't be healthy. People need human interactions to keep their sanity, and your father has been denied that, more so than your mother. At least before I came around and started becoming a constant in your life, you visited her. Your father was denied even that privilege."

He groaned, falling back on the bed as his hands moved to clutch at blonde locks. "It's not that simple though, Hermione. It's more than just simply speaking to him. My history with my father is darker than that of what I shared with my mother. He… he had interesting ways of teaching me when I was younger."

Although she didn't really like to hear that statement, and could recall a few times when he brought up sinister topics, she held her tongue, refusing to bring that up just then. That would be getting off topic, and there would be a time and a place to handle such a conversation, but it was not just then. "Yet you have not completely shunned him from your life, despite your distaste for him. You're either holding onto an inkling of belief that he can revert into a good man, or you're attached to your father so much that you can't actually fathom the idea of losing him to insanity."

"Hermione-"

"I'm not asking you to tell me which it is," she said, cutting him off before he could begin. "Sometime when you're ready, you'll reveal that to me yourself. I just want you to hear me out, okay? He must be spoken to."

"I understand-"

"But not just by you," she said, cutting him off again. "You're not the only person in this house, much less in your family. He still has a wife, who might currently be frail, but is very much the person he married. Only, right now she's a shell of her former self. I know it's a long stretch to get you to hear me out, but maybe… maybe you should let them see each other. They see you, and every now and then they see me. But they don't see each other. Maybe that's what they need to snap out of this."

He closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths before he tried to speak. "I won't put them into a room together. Not based on the past."

"But it's the past," she reminded, shutting her book. Cautiously, she crawled towards him on the bed, hoping that he wouldn't get up to put distance between them. But he never moved, and she slowly rested her head on his chest before speaking again. "And if you hold onto the past, you won't be able to accept the future. From the way you're speaking, I know that your history with your father is nowhere near fantastic, but he has suffered in Azkaban, and perhaps that has changed his perception on life. It might seem like a silly idea, but it is possible. Right now you can't see past the damage that the prison caused to his mind, and perhaps once his sanity can be restored, his mindset might be reversed as well."

"Or it might just be as judgmental and cruel as it has always been," he said, his tone bitter. "I doubt my father will change just because of Azkaban. He won't ever change."

"You'll never know unless you speak to him," she said, rubbing his chest softly. "Will you?"

There was a long pause between them before he spoke. "I suppose not."

"See? If you won't do it for you, do it for your mother. We'll both be there whenever they do come face to face, and if things get out of hand the two of us can easily handle Lucius. You just have to be an optimist and hope for things to improve."

"I'm not the best at that," he said, moving to hug her closer to him. "Never have been."

"That's why you have me," she said, scooting up so their face were level, with Hermione leaning over the blonde. "I'll be your faith."

He smiled lightly at that, leaning up to kiss her. "Then maybe there's a bit of hope."

"Maybe," she said, studying his face. "Make me a promise."

"Hmm?"

"Promise we'll go see your father tomorrow, even if the visit is brief."

"I don't-"

"You have to start somewhere," she reminded, searching his silver orbs. Groaning, he relented.

"Fine, we'll go see my bloody father, but not for long! I refuse to spend too much time with him."

She nodded, dropping her head down on the mattress next to his own. "That's fine Draco. All I want at this point is baby steps from you."

He rubbed her arm. "Well, good. That's all I'll promise you right now."

"Then I'll take it," she said, letting off a yawn. "We have to start somewhere."

"Yes," he muttered, smiling lightly as the witch beside him slowly drifted off to sleep. "I suppose we do."

* * *

**A/n:** Thoughts on the scar removal, the chapter? Let me know :D

Still looking for someone to take over a spot on my fanfiction competition team darlings! If interested PM me :)


	11. Retrospect: Forest

**A/n: **Thanks to my beta** JDeppIsMyLovely**!

* * *

The Forbidden Forest was a dreary place. Draco was quite upset that he had to accompany the giant oaf and Potter's muck luck crew in for a detention he clearly didn't deserve! He merely reported the misdeeds of the three and couldn't believe he was now suffering for his good deed. It was stupid.

He sulked behind the others and that barbaric dog as they wandered into the forest, grumbling the entire way. The closest one to him was the Weasel, and he almost wished it was Granger, who was at least tolerable to talk to considering that she could actually hold a conversation. He never knew what Weasley was trying to say.

Oh his father was _so _going to hear about this! How dare they drag him through the woods? He didn't even go through the woods around his home! The woods were dirty, and dark, and dirty. He despised everyone at that moment.

If Snape had found them instead, he wouldn't be having this problem. He'd be back in his common room gloating about how awesome he was because he got Potter, Weasley _and_ Granger all in trouble at once! Yes, that would've made tonight so much better.

Too bad those idiots seemed to be enjoying the ridiculous walk! How anyone enjoyed trekking through the woods for no apparent reason was beyond him. He'd rather clean the boards at school than deal with the blasted half-giant. Much like Dumbledore, his father saw the man as nothing more than a nuisance and blemish on the school, which would run so much more smoothly if his father were in charge. But alas, people never understood when they saw pure genius and mistook it as something evil, or at least that's what his father told him.

And his father hated Hagrid, so he hated Hagrid. End of story. Hopefully if he stayed back far enough though he could avoid doing anything and get away with this trip easy, letting the Gryffindor's do all the meaningless work. He really liked that idea.

At one point they halted, and began to look for whatever they were out there for, Draco couldn't even remember. He hung around the edges of the group, still irritated with the situation. What he wouldn't give to be back in his bed already.

The oaf decided to split them up of all things soon after, pairing him with bloody Granger while the oaf, Potter and Weasley went one direction and they got a cowardly dog. The entire situation was stupid, and he would have so many things to report after this that his father would surely get the man fired. Well, that was something to look forward to at least.

"My father will hear about this," he grumbled, walking slightly ahead of the brunette as the group separated. The dog trotted in front of him, and together the three took the leftmost path in the forest, directly beside the one the others took. The paths were supposed to meet up again a bit down the way, and he wondered if the oaf actually knew what he was doing.

"Your father hears about everything!" she snapped, hugging her cloak close to her. "Why don't you do something for yourself?"

The blonde scoffed, insulted that she was even asking. "_I_ don't have the power to get people fired yet, but my father does. Soon enough I will, in the next few years here I'm going to get everyone fired that's useless. Father says all Malfoys have that ability."

"Yes," she said bitterly, "They also have enlarged egos."

He spun around, nearly slamming the lantern into her face. "At least I have an ego! You're so shy and ugly that you don't have any confidence. You're a Gryffindor nerd, and that's all you'll ever be Granger because no one in the magical world hires people like _you_."

"What are you saying?" she snapped, wondering what he was talking about. Was she that different? She knew that most people had magical parents, but she wasn't the only one like that, was she?

"People like you don't belong in the world of magic," he said, raising his chin. "We Purebloods are above you, and you'll always rank lower! No one hires people like you."

Hermione frowned, standing as tall as she could. "And what's wrong with people like me, Malfoy? I'm a student just like you! Actually, I'm better. I'm in Gryffindor."

"Slytherin is far better," he snapped, rolling his eyes as though it was obvious. "They only let in _Purebloods_."

"Oh yeah? Well what am I then?"

He chuckled at that, but remembered his father's warning to not start using those rude words until an established standpoint with Potter could be created, whatever that means. "Your bloods dirty."

"No it's not. It's red like everyone else's."

Draco scoffed, seemingly entertained by that theory. "Oh, keep thinking that Granger. Keep thinking that."

"It _is_ Malfoy, you can't have different colored blood. It doesn't work."

"You really don't know anything."

"I'm serious! Blood is red for every person, even slimy snakes like you. Or blood is the same-"

"Don't say that!" he cried, tightening his hands. "Don't ever, ever compare our blood, got it, Granger. We are not the same people, or practically the same race! Your blood is _dirty_ understand? No one wants someone with dirty blood."

"It's the same," she groaned, moving to walk ahead of him in hopes that they could proceed. Luckily he decided to start walking too, and not two feet ahead they caught sight of Fang again. Their path had more tree branches up above than the path Harry and Ron took, so the moonlight didn't help as much. "It will always be the same."

"Granger, keep lying to yourself. Our blood will never be the same. I will always be a Pureblood, and you will not be."

Hermione spun around, pointing a finger at the boy. "Fine! I wouldn't want to be a Pureblood! Not if they are all like you!"

"It's an honor to be a Pureblood you stupid girl! You'll never know the honor."

Her eyes darkened, and she took a step back. "Is that something else your father told you?"

"Well of course! My father doesn't lie."

"Your father sounds rude," she replied, crossing her arms. "He doesn't like Hagrid or Dumbledore according to you, or me, or Harry, or anything! Why would you want to listen to him? Why would you want to be like him? I don't get you Malfoy, it seems like you want to follow the wrong type of person."

Briefly, he found himself at a loss for words. His father was a symbol of power, respected and feared by many. How could she even question why he would want to be like him!? In Draco's opinion, everyone should want to be like Lucius Malfoy; he's amazing.

But then, he did hurt him sometimes, and he wasn't always nice. Sometimes, Draco did worry about his mother and father a bit. In the big empty Manor where he lived with them he had his own wing and was not expected to come and find them at night unless someone broke in. His father demanded this, and Draco wouldn't want to disappoint his father by breaking the rules.

One night though, he desperately needed to find his parents. He was playing in his room at the age of nine and tried doing a simple spell one of his nannies was teaching him, which involved moving an object. Knowing that he was a Malfoy, he assumed that he could do it easy and decided that he was going to move a pillow in front of him as he jumped off the bed so he could land there, even throwing in a cool twist to impress all of his invisible fans. Well he did attempt this, but all did not go according to plan. He found out that day that magic took some practice and hard work, and instead of moving the pillow in front of him he got concerned halfway through his turn, stopped midair in the turn on his side to try and get the pillow to move, and ended up falling on his arm. He heard a snap and cried out, his little voice echoing throughout the bedroom, but his parents would be too far away to hear anything. He cried for a long time like a baby before finally deciding that he should just go and find his parents, telling them that an intruder broke in or some such nonsense to avoid getting into trouble.

It hurt to move the arm at all but he left his room anyway, wand in hand so he could tell his father that he at least tried to defend himself. He wiped at the tears as he walked, hoping his face would be dry once he got there. If his father saw that he had been crying he would be most disappointed.

When he got to his parents wing, he took the familiar hallway that way and headed towards their room. About two doors down however, he stopped, frozen in fear. He could hear his mother screaming.

"_Stop! I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. Please!"_

It sounded pained and fearful, and afraid of what he would encounter the child flattened himself against the wall, listening to several more screams before everything went silent and his mother stopped screaming. His little heart froze. Was she alright? Why wasn't his father helping her? Was there an intruder?

Despite how bratty Draco could be, despite the searing pain in his little arm he turned around and hobbled back to his room, whimpering at the pain as he went. Oh, it hurt, but what could he do? Someone was hurting his mother, someone real, not a make-believe intruder like Draco had been prepared to tell them. He would leave his father to deal with the problem, and in the morning when all the danger was gone he would tell his nanny about his arm and she would help him right away. But his parents were busy, and he didn't want to disturb them just to be yelled at while Lucius was busy.

It would turn out to be a broken arm, one which would have to be set painfully back into place since Draco didn't seek help immediately. He would receive a scar when he went to St. Mungo's for struggling when they gave him a shot and tearing the skin, a scar that would later be covered by the Dark Mark, and removed years later by a potion created by Hermione Granger, the girl he was currently arguing with.

His father gave him a scolding for the incident, declaring that he would know if there was an intruder. And during the summer between first and second year Draco would understand why his mother occasionally screamed at night, and begin to see a different side of Lucius.

"My father is important," he snapped, coming back in the present. Lost down memory lane he could see that Granger was wondering about him, giving him a peculiar look at that point. She had to know he was acting weird since he used an odd word to respond about his bloody father. "People respect him. I want to be respected."

"But do you want to be all rude and full of hate too?" she asked, trying to figure out just what kind of person Lucius was. At that point she couldn't tell what kind of message he was trying to send.

"I'll be whatever my father is!" he growled, leaning closer to her in the light of the lantern. "Which is more than you will ever be."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, completely against just sitting there and listening to him bad-mouth her again, when an odd shadowy form began to appear behind Malfoy. Losing her train of thought, she tried to look past him and figure out what it was, or if it was simply her mind playing tricks on her in the dark. She drew Malfoy's attention at that too and he peered over his shoulder as well.

A cloaked presence was stepping from the shadows, just a bit down the path from them. Hermione felt her mouth go dry at the sight, fear swallowing her whole. Malfoy didn't seem to take the appearance much better either, as she could see the lantern slightly shaking in his grip. It drew closer and the two of them stumbled backwards, tripping over each other. Their eyes were huge, and perhaps if they looked at one another's faces they might find it comical.

The creature on the other hand had eyes only for the tuft of blonde hair before him. He knew only one family that had hair such a color, one group that had been loyal to him since the start, and he assumed this could only be Lucius Malfoy's son. As to who the girl was, he didn't know or care at the time. After being chased away from Potter by centaur, he wasn't in the mood to tolerate other people.

He didn't preferably kill the Malfoy child though, not when the boy might make a fine follower in several years. The girl seemed unimportant, and deciding that the pair were not worth his time to bother with just then, the cloaked form of a regenerating Voldemort disappeared back into the trees on the other side of the path, unbeknownst to him how much trouble he might've saved himself in the coming years had he killed the girl that night.

Once the shadow was gone, the children glanced at one another, horror stricken, before screaming and running down the path the opposite way, Fang having already taken his leave. Not thirty feet ahead they path merged back with Harry and Ron's, and the children met up again.

Things in the Forbidden Forest could be very scary to a little kid, after all.

* * *

**A/n:** Yup, a past chapter. Thoughts? I thought it was fun to write!


	12. Aftermath: Talk

**A/n:** No beta as of now. If you're interested PM me! Things are too far behind right now for story one to have the same beta working both stories. Gotta let a person catch up sometime! Here's the chapter.

* * *

Draco was exceedingly uncomfortable walking with Hermione to search for his father. She didn't seem even slightly concerned about the situation, but he kept seeing it end horrifically in his mind, and didn't really want to be wandering towards that side of the Manor with her in tow. What if something went wrong? What if she was hurt?

He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't the first time she'd confronted his father, and that she could probably handle herself just fine in the event that he lost his temper. She didn't let anyone get the best of her now; Weasley had been the only one, and Draco was more than thankful that the man was on his way to Azkaban. In his mind, the retrial was a joke.

Hermione seemed more confident about confronting the elder Malfoy than he did as they prowled the halls, seeming to believe that his father really did have the faintest flicker of honest emotion beneath his heavy, off put exterior. She believed he wanted to change, but Draco wasn't so sure. It took only a few minutes of walking to find him, for the door to one of the rooms was open and he was cocooned inside, knees draw to his chest in the most vulnerable position Hermione had ever seen him in. Caught off guard she paused at the entranceway, staring with wide eyes at the scene before her. Draco didn't quite seem to know what to make of the situation either, but he squared his shoulders at the scene. He didn't want her seeing his uncertainty.

For he did agree with something; this was the most vulnerable he'd ever seen his father.

"Father," he said, inclining his chin as he spoke, "You have company."

The man seemed startled by his son's voice and was out of bed in a moment, spinning around to leer at the pair, and his eyes only grew when he realized they were both there. "Get out of my wing," he said, ignoring any sort of formality of civility amongst them. Pulling at the heavy cloak around his shoulders, he turned again and stalked to the window, peering out. Hermione watched his actions, zeroing in on the window as he got closer and her eyes widened. There were bars on the outside!

"Well, you heard him," Draco muttered, turning to go but Hermione caught his arm, giving him a stern look. Quietly groaning, he shuffled into the room, taking his time getting to his father's side. She hung back by the doorway, allowing the pair a hint of space without removing herself from the equation, which might just result in the two trying to get at each other's throats. At least she could still hear them if anything was said.

Draco stood as far from his father by the window, internally swearing. It was Hermione's fault after all that he was here. "You're looking pale."

"We're always pale," his father sneered, gripping the window ceil. "My health has nothing to do with that."

"It might have something to do with the bags beneath your eyes," he grumbled, ignoring the disapproving look his father sent him. "When was the last time you cleaned his fucking place? It's coated in layers of dust and grime." He ran a finger across the window ceil for emphasis, watching the pain finally shine through six shades lighter than it currently was. "This place was disgusting. If my room ever looked like this-"

Draco stopped, cutting himself off before he went there. Turning robotically, he faced the window, staring out it the same as his father. No, he would not dive headfirst into such a sensitive topic, now or ever. There was nothing left to discuss about it with that man, and Lucius knew it as well.

"I would never allow your room to look like this," he said dully, refusing to look towards his son. "It would not be tolerated. But you tolerate mine looking this way."

"This is not your room father, it is a guest room. Yours is at the end of the hall."

Lucius dropped his gaze, staring at the ground outside now. "I do not go there anymore son." Then his expression tightened. "Why are you here? Do you bring bad news boy? You promised me once you would not visit unless something happened-"

"Nothing's changed!" the blonde snapped, his elevated voice echoing in the room. "I wouldn't have come in here so civilly if something had, _father._ She's still alive if that's what you're asking, _no thanks_ to you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow from her position behind the pair, wondering just what the implication there was. Yet she held her tongue, feeling that the topic was escalating already. An interruption from her would not help the two converse one bit, and she could see that the conversation was heavily strained.

Lucius was quiet for a long time after that, and Hermione found that peculiar, knowing that the elder Malfoy- though partially insane- usually had a comeback. "Does she ask for me?" he questioned quietly, so lowly that she nearly missed the question.

"_Why _would she ask for you!? You offer nothing of value to remember, nothing good, and _certainly_ nothing pleasant! Sure, perhaps she asked about you in the beginning, but not anymore! Now she's finally dropped the topic of you."

The elder Malfoy looked over at his son, seemingly started by his comment. "She used to ask for me?"

"Of course! You had that instilled in her mind!" Again, Hermione found herself wondering about the implication there. "She asked, but do you think I'm daft enough to comply? I wouldn't bring you anywhere near her back then father when she was so fragile, and I certainly won't do that now when she is unstable."

For several moments it was quiet, as though Lucius didn't want to believe the words falling from his son's mouth, and then it happened, and Hermione leaped forward far too slowly to be of any real assistance.

Lucius snatched his cane, which was conveniently leaning against the wall beside him and swung the heavy handle directly at Draco's head. Seconds later Draco's wand was at the ready, and he fired a spell at his own father that caused the man to scream, propelling him backwards, but not before the handle of that blasted cane clipped the side of his face and Draco staggered back. His father hit the wall with a dull thud, groaning at the contact. She was to her boyfriend's side in a moment, but he shoved her off to look back at his father.

"Don't pretend like my implications are falsehoods father," he grunted, eyes gleaming. "We both know the reality behind my words, the same reality that you're trying to ignore. You might _want_ to forget all of those years, but I will not. I will not forget the monster you have always been." He shook his head, wrapping an arm gently around Hermione's shoulders, though she could tell he was extremely rigid. Her wand was out as well, in case anything further broke out. "Mother won't forget so easily either, even with how she is now."

Hermione expected a retort of some sort similar to the ones Lucius had earlier on, but none came. Instead the man glanced away, dropping his head a few degrees. She couldn't be sure, but he almost appeared _regretful._ Whether or not the emotion was genuine though remained a mystery, and she decided to let it be for the time being. Reaching up she placed a hand on his arm, tugging him in the direction of the door. Although he had done what she asked, he had spoken to his father, it didn't go the way she hoped, and she supposed that the faster they left the place the safer both Malfoy's were. After several tugs, he relented and let her pull him from the room, leaving the conflicted Malfoy there on the ground with raging emotions and a pained back. She made sure to close the door once they were outside the room, and he quickly untangled his body from hers.

"Draco-"

"Not now," he muttered, already stalking away. "Please not now."

"Your head's bleeding," she reminded, catching up to his hunched figure easily enough. "Let me heal it and then you can go and brood about this experience, as I'm sure you will."

He huffed. "You don't know what I plan to do. Leave my head be, it's nothing too terrible."

"Draco." Her tone was harsher this time and reluctantly he stopped, allowing the witch to faintly touch the cut on his forehead. "He nicked you."

"Really now? I hadn't noticed."

"Don't be an arse," she said, pulling him along the quickest route back to his room. She knew that they wasted time finding Lucius initially, as they kept taking overly complicated paths. He'd been trying to avoid his father as much as possible. It took a few short minutes to return to the room and when they did she forced him to sit down on the bed, inspecting his head more thoroughly.

"I don't think it's too deep. Let me just heal it real quick-"

"Don't-"

"It's a simple spell," she reasoned, her wand already out. "The cut isn't deep." A quick tap of her wand over the open wound at the split skin all healed up and sealed again. "There now, all better."

He rolled his eyes, obviously disagreeing with her statement. Getting up off the bed he paced the length of the room, popping his knuckles as he walked instead of placing his hands casually behind his back like usual. She could see that he was very agitated.

"I know it didn't go as planned-"

Draco laughed, cutting her off. "There was a plan? There can never be a plan with him Hermione! Usually he's vile and won't speak to anyone, occasionally he's tolerable, and then on occasion he acts like he did just now; conflicted. You can't fucking plan anything with him because he's unpredictable. I already knew that before we went."

She frowned. "Then what did you expect to have happen today?"

"An outburst like what happened. Father's always had those; it's no surprise that he tried to take my head off." The blonde shook his head, glancing at her briefly. "Tell me he never tried to take off yours."

The woman shrugged, and he didn't much like that response. "More or less. He doesn't like me Draco, that much is expected. I'm just surprised he didn't say anything about my heritage while we were there."

"No," he snapped bitterly, pulling out his wand to twirl it, "He was too busy trying to improperly evaluate mine."

Confused, Hermione held her tongue at that when she saw Draco turn around, his expression very conflicted. He paced the length of his massive room twice more before cursing, pausing against the wall behind her, and she turned to face him. Several questions were swimming in her mind.

"Why doesn't he go to his own bedroom anymore?" she asked, thinking back to all of the questions she now had. Draco's jaw tightened and he looked away, closing his eyes.

"We don't talk about it anymore," he said tightly, keeping his head turned from her. "He knows better than to discuss that, and I refuse to. I won't tell you Hermione; it's not for the weary."

She was off the bed in a moment, standing directly in front of him as she grabbed his wrists. "I'm _not_ one of the weary Draco, you know that for damn sure. You're using it as an excuse to avoid the question. I get that whatever happened in your past created a major ridge between you and your father, but it's still making that ridge taller. Now you're not only angry about whatever he did before, but also everything he cost you due to the war." She squeezed his wrists lightly, smiling slightly at his unopened eyes. "Whatever happened, you've been carrying the secret all your life, haven't you?"

His jaw tightening was the only sign that he ever heard her, but she took it as an affirmative and pushed onward. "Draco whatever happened, its burdening your soul and making it harder for you to be open towards your father as you are with your mother. Perhaps what he did is unforgiveable, I don't know. But whatever it is leaves more hate than love in your mind. Maybe that can't be undone. But Draco, you're never going to get over the past if you hold onto it. Yes, it was probably bad, and it probably hurt you, but whatever happened happened before the war ended and your parents ended up like this. I'm not going to tell you to forgive and forget just yet, because I don't know what the problem is, but please just tell me what's going on in your head! The fact that you went and spoke to him today at all was a major breakthrough, but you shouldn't just stop here." Hermione took a breath. "You don't have to go back and speak to him for a bit, but please tell me what happened. You look like you're about to explode."

Draco's eyes opened, and they flashed. He moved quickly, gripping her upper arms, and for one brief moment she wondered if he planned to throw her into the floor, but he merely lifted her and sat her on the bed nearby, before squatting and looking into her eyes.

"You don't want to know my horrors," he said, speaking eerily evenly, "At least yours were short lived. Mine consisted of a span of eight years. There isn't a similar comparison between the two."

"They're both dehumanizing," she said, latching onto what he was implying. "Draco, just tell me. It's been bottled inside long enough and you need to share. My opinion on you isn't going to change just because you're brave enough to face your past."

He raised an eyebrow then, seeming perplexed by her sentence. Getting up, he sat beside her instead, snatching up her hand so he could trace the skin there. "You don't want to listen to me bitch Hermione."

Gently she placed a hand over his, smiling at him. "You can, Draco. I want to help. I've been trying to from the beginning."

Nodding slowly he pulled his hand away, leaning back on the bed. "It's a long story you know."

"I have a lot of time."

"I don't know if I'll tell you all of it at once."

"I'm not going anywhere if you don't," she replied soothingly, laying down beside him as she pat his hand. "It's a time thing Draco, I get it. I was there when Ron betrayed me, and although you need to work to get over this issue, I'm not going to force it out of you all at one. Just take a breath, and start from the beginning. When you think you can't handle anymore, just stop. I'm not going to be mad at you. I just want to help you."

He smiled softly, grateful that she understood at the very least. Taking a breath, he prepared himself to tell her his story.

* * *

**A/n:** Yes, yes, I know, cliffy. Leave a review though yeah and tell me what you think he'll say. Next chapter should be up soon since I wrote a really long chapter and just halfed it to keep the story within a certain length. So any thoughts on what he'll say? Let me know and we're going to start learning his secrets next chapter!


	13. Aftermath: Story

**A/n:** Another chapter! Guess I'm in a writing mood. Let me know how you think it's coming along! Again, still in need of a new beta!

"I'm not an open book," Draco began, speaking several minutes later after he'd grown silent. "I won't share all of my secrets with you in one sitting."

"Why would I expect you to? I took my dear sweet time giving you answers when you were helping me, and I expect now less in exchange. It's hard to accept that you need to look back on the painful moments in life sometimes." She kissed his cheek before leaning away, leaving him to lie there on the bed until he decided to speak.

It just took longer than she expected it to.

"My father always had high expectations of me," he began, finally speaking after another several minutes. "I think he's always had high expectations of me since birth, before I could even really remember things. My grandfather, Abraxas, was the same as my father, and his father before him. The males in this family are always expected to accomplish great things, and give no one any pity when it comes to reaching our goals."

Hermione nodded encouragingly, moving to rest up on her elbows during his pause so she could rub his hand as he spoke.

"Father used the same methods to obtain submission and understanding from people as his father did, who lied for many years. Let's just say that the methods were not sugar-coated."

"What were they?" she asked, venturing a question that she almost knew for certain he wouldn't answer. As expected, he shook his head and covered his eyes with one hand.

"Another time Hermione. It's a sensitive topic."

"Fair enough. Keep talking though, but you don't have to specify about that."

Draco took a breath before continuing, possibly preparing himself. "I've been experiencing his teaching mechanisms since a young age. For a while it wasn't any sort of firsthand experience, but after my first year I finally learned why my mother was so timid around him. When my house failed to win the house cup at Hogwarts, when I couldn't befriend Potter, when I didn't get the highest marks, he snapped and decided to instill some harsh treatment. You don't think Dobby is the only thing that suffered around here, do you?"

She cringed, picking up on his meaning. It was several moments before she responded. "Do you have any scars?"

"Of course I do, though many have turned into pale white lines overtime. My complexion practically makes them non-existent. One was actually hidden beneath the Dark Mark, though it was a scar that I earned all by myself. It disappeared when we removed the tattoo."

"I imagine so," she muttered, tracing lines on his hand now to distract herself. His childhood sounded horrendous, despite the fact that he lived in an enormous Manor and had far too much money at his disposal. Though she supposed that material possessions didn't make up for the neglect that one can feel through abuse, or by simply being ignored. She realized now what he he'd hinted at earlier, and what he let slip despite saying that he didn't want to talk about anything more than a basic outline of his life, and his problems with Lucius.

She speculated that the elder Malfoy also probably beat upon Narcissa once too, and that was why Draco was so apt to keep the couple apart. Narcissa was deranged and literally out of her mind, while Lucius still embodied an awful lot of hate. Maybe putting the two together in the same room really wasn't a good idea.

"He's always been cold," the blonde continued, but in a much lower voice. It was almost as though he was talking to himself now. "So cold. Even when I was young it was difficult to please him, no matter how well I did at something. Grades, Quidditch, making Potter's life hard, it was all always a hair short of good, and he always told me to do better. There were never a lot of congratulations or warm welcomes, but that's probably because he always said Malfoy's aren't made for that. The only time he ever even vaguely sounded proud of me was when he bragged to someone else about me, for Malfoy's can never be second-best at anything, even when it comes to their children. He would make up lies, and then expect me to live up to them."

"Sounds difficult," she said, but he pulled away from her, getting up off the bed to first strip his shirt away, and then grab his wand for something to twirl as he paced. "Lucius is hell-bent on being the best, both individually and family-wide. As a child I never lived up to his expectations, and now he can't live up to mine. He wanted me to do well, excel, and be better than he could even be. He made many mistakes, what with the Dark Lord among other things, and expected that I would always be there to pick up the slack and keep the family looking good. Only it wasn't that simple. I not only had the pressure of pleasing my father during the war, but also every other Death Eater. I was watched like a hawk, the prodigy of Lucius Malfoy, and in the end I never even lived up to the title."

"Is that disappointing though?" she asked, confused now. "Did you want to live up to your father's expectations and hopes?"

"When I was younger, absolutely. I would give anything to make him happy during the first few years of school and before, but as I grew up things changed. He was cruel when I was young, but I always sidestepped that as an act of mere discipline. As I grew up I realized it was a way to control me more than anything else, and he used the same method on my mother. When I was young I ignored how wrong it all seemed, but by fifth year it was unbearable. And by then it was too late to do anything; I was to become a Death Eater, and to do so would mean to break away from my father. That would entail certain death, something that I wasn't looking forward to at an early age. So I stayed, still confused and angry at my father for the treatment over the years that I realized was wrong, and scared out of my mind by all the people that began moving into my home. I broke away from my father the day the war ended, and soon after my parents went away to Azkaban. I haven't let him have a hold over me since."

Hermione nodded, though he wasn't watching her. Standing, she padded over to his now still form, grabbing his hand in hers. "It takes a lot to break away from the hand that feeds you, especially one that is your blood family. It took courage to do what you did."

"Perhaps, but now I hide my troubles away behind wards like a fucking coward. I just can't face them. It's like all the problems and mistakes in my life come back and slap me in the face whenever I look at them. My mother is the symbol of submission, brought to the brink of insanity by a prison and fearful of life because of my father. Lucius remains a monster, having visited that hellhole twice and still returned partially sane from its depths. He's still overpowering in a way, what with his willpower. But it's not just that that makes me hate him; it's the past, the memories, the pain."

"Of course it is," she agreed, all too familiar with the territory of hate. "That's the way I feel about Ron, but there is a difference. Although his mind may not have been tampered with when you were a child, your father's mind is almost certainly impaired now for one reason or another. You have to give him some sort of chance to become himself again before you judge his character."

"I already know his character," he spat, looking away from her. "And it's one I certainly hope you never encounter again."

"You know him from the past," she reminded, pointing a finger at his bare chest. "You do not know his character after another stint in Azkaban. Perhaps if the pieces of insanity could be removed, you would encounter a different man."

"Unlikely," he muttered, shaking his head. "My father will never change."

"Never, is a powerful word," Hermione reminded, pulling on his arm. He let her drag him back towards the bed, and even let her take his wand away and place it back on the side table. "Down."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't overthink it Draco; just lie down on the bed." Without another argument as to avoid a scolding by his girlfriend, the man lay down, and was pleased to have her join him a moment later.

"I'm proud of you," she whispered, before kissing him. "I really am. It takes courage to do these types of things."

"Or stupidity," he sighed, and she lightly slapped his arm. The hit was only light, and he supposed she wasn't upset.

"You're drained from the experience," she continued, cuddling in beside him. "And I'm just plain tired. What do you say that we catch a nap before doing anything else."

"Like what?" Draco asked, interested in what she would say. The girl shook her head against his shoulder, yawning.

"Handling more problems, darling."

* * *

"It's fucking remarkable!"

When Hermione mentioned dealing with problems earlier, Draco was fairly certain this wasn't what she had in mind. Blaise arrived during their nap, disrupting the pair from their quaint slumber, and Hermione left the room in a half-awake mood, saying she was off to the library until things quieted down before she could sleep again. He suspected that she was just upset that their nap was disturbed, but she left before he could suggest the idea of rolling over, for she didn't really need to be awake while he spoke to Blaise. After all, the Italian was his friend.

"And she really got the pain to go away?" he continued, staring at the milky paleness of his friends forearm. The Dark Mark was nowhere to be found. "Unbelievable!"

"It removes scars as well," he said, pointing to the same area. He knew that his longtime friend remembered the old scar he received at nine for breaking his arm, and the mark from that was gone now as well. "She created something truly phenomenal."

"I see," his friend agreed, looking up. "Is she still stingy about the whole marketing idea?"

"_Blaise_."

"Fine, fine, I just thought I would ask. She's really missing out by not exploring this revenue. Think of all the money!"

"Why the fuck would she need more money?" Draco joked, cocking an eyebrow. "She has me."

"Oh I see," Blaise replied, sitting back in his seat in the bedroom. "My, and just what part of you does she have? Your body, mind, or sanity?"

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Perhaps all of the above. She has been around this place for a while."

"I'm aware. And how long does she plan to say? The girl seems to be getting quite comfortable here." He waggled his eyebrows. "I can see why."

"Fuck off Blaise, it isn't like that. From what I recall, she isn't even sure what she's going to do. For a short time she spoke about moving to her own place, but it never happened. I know she's been offered back her Ministry job with a higher wage, but I'll be damned if I've actually seen her work on anything for it. I really don't know what she's thinking."

"And you haven't bothered to ask?"

The blonde shrugged, glancing away. "I've had other things on my mind."

"Like her?"

"_Blaise_."

"Yes, I know, you want me to fuck off. My point is Draco that you don't kept anyone get comfortable in your place, much less a girl that you don't intend on keeping, and certainly not for several months, much less a few days. I don't think you're planning on letting this one go."

"_Fuck off_."

"Very well," his friend agreed, sitting forward in his chair. "Now, on a different topic, what do you think it would take me to get Hermione to let me use some of that potion?"

* * *

**A/n: **Well look at that! Another chapter. It's short but hell, it's up. Shoot me a review so I know how you think things are going!"


	14. Aftermath: Removal

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! I changed beta's for specific reasons, and all previous chapters of this story are slowly being edited by her. **Not yet edited. The correct name will appear as edits are sent back :)

* * *

Blaise was able to convince Hermione to take him upstairs to the potions lab to have a look-see at the potion she'd created before leaving that day. Draco knew that she was a bit uncomfortable doing this, that she still wasn't really sure what she would do with the invention, but nonetheless took him up there. He speculated that the Italian only got to go because he was Draco's best mate.

But this left the blonde with a bit of free time to be alone, and really that was the last thing he needed. For several minutes he sat stiffly in his bedroom, staring blindly at the floor. Solitude meant he had time to think, and since arriving Hermione had filled the empty gaps in his days, keeping his thoughts from straying. The day she arrived there was almost a blessing for him, though she had to pick a time when he was sleeping. He remembered the experience as though it were yesterday.

_"Granger? What the bloody fuck are you doing here at this hour?! I thought I said the connection was for professional use only!"_

_She had barely stepped out of the floo when he stood as well, obviously having been lost in a fitful sleep. The shirt he wore was adored with sweat stains, and as he drew near she could tell that he had bags beneath pale eyes. His pajama bottoms were wrinkled, and she suspected that he had been haunted by some type of nightmares before her arrival._

_"This is a professional visit," she lied, ignoring the dark look in his eyes. "I've come to begin working."_

_He glanced at the clock. "Well, come back later- or tomorrow! It's barely three in the morning. It's too early to be conversing, or dealing with dangerous potion ingredients."_

_"Oh no," she said, stepping past him. "I'm quite awake and ready-"_

_"Is that what you call awake? Well fuck, Granger, then you must look like shit when you haven't slept. Your eyes are so red it's scary. Besides, won't sweet old Weasely miss your company? I get the feeling that you're not home much as it is."_

_She held back a groan at the mention of Ron. "He'll be fine," she insisted. "Now, I don't understand why you are being so difficult. If I'm willing to put more time into making your arm feel better then you should be the last one complaining."_

_"Depends, Granger; are you expecting to be paid for your overtime? That wasn't in the deal."_

_"Then don't pay me!" She spun away from him. "It's just something I want to do. Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to get started." The brunette began walking, expecting another rebut on his part. When she reached the bedroom door and he hadn't uttered a word again, she threw it open and walked out, hoping she remembered where the potion's room was._

_For his part, Draco just studied her as she walked away. He thought it was odd that she showed up in the same clothing, looking just a bit terrified with a giant bag on her arm, and a briefcase poking out the top. He thought it was odd that her eyes were red like she had been crying._

_Mostly, he wondered about the bruised marks marring both her shoulders and the red, infected looking bite on her neck._

He'd never told her before, but her presence offered a distraction from his everyday life, and the horrors it had within. Having someone around forced him to act normal, like nothing was wrong, and to keep his composure. She was a distraction from the problems at hand, a way of coping with the shattering reality of life.

His mother's heal was deteriorating just as quickly as her mind by that point, and after he became smitten with Hermione he actually began neglecting the woman who gave birth to him. He should've snuck away more from the brunette, brought her along, something, so that he would still watch his mother like a good boy. He would always remember when things began to get critical; he discovered it the day Hermione ran out after their shared kiss, her memories of a forgotten one spilling back. Amidst his regret for removing the memory he'd gone down to see his mother, unsure what else to do. It ended up being a traumatizing experience.

_He opened the door, assuming that the house elves were taking good care of his mother as instructed. As the door swung open he discovered this to be a lie._

_She lay on the floor twitching, the remains of a seizure causing the strange muscle movements. He was by her side in a moment, shoving the offending house elves to the side, the ones who were still failing to help her in her condition. A few feet away on the floor lay her lunch, apparently lost in the process of getting up. Her eyes were bloodshot, as though she'd been crying, and her nose bled, probably a side effect of the seizure._

_Draco quickly ran analysis of her body, moving her back to the bed with a levitation spell while he snapped at the elves to clean the mess up. They scrambled to do so, bowing their heads in the presence of the young lord. _

"_Mother," he said, setting the woman down on the bed, her eyes staring up towards nothing. A cold compress appeared in his hand and he immediately set it on her forehead, checking her vitals with a second spell. "Mother, do you hear me?"_

_She stared at the ceiling, no reply escaping her lips. She never spoke, not really, and he wasn't too surprised that she didn't offer up a response. He desperately wanted to hear one as he checked her over, but it never came, and she continued to stare off at the ceiling, a blank look in her eyes._

_His resolve slowly broke. Despite helping Hermione, falling for her, and handling everyday life he secretly had his parents to handle as well- specifically, his mother, who lost her sanity long ago. He was trying, but no matter what he did, how long he spoke to her, she didn't respond, didn't even seem to notice he was there. She was practically a walking corpse, stumbling around whenever she got up. It scared him._

_Realizing that she was okay now, he cleaned the blood from her face, burning the handkerchief when he finished before falling to his knees beside the bed, dropping his head there. It all seemed so hopeless, and it broke his confidence. She met more to him than anything in the world, and there was a good chance nothing could be done for her._

_He was going to lose her. And Draco didn't know if he could handle that._

He hated himself, for letting her slip so far. Maybe Hermione did have a point when she spoke, when she mentioned St. Mungo's, but if he took either of his parents there then there was a possibility they would be on a permanent stay, and although he hated his father, that was the last thing he wanted. They belonged in the Manor, away from the critical eye of the public. Reports were always at that place for one reason or another, and he didn't want them becoming a news story. It would hurt not only the family name, but Draco personally. He didn't want people knowing what his family had become, what their treachery in the war cost them. He wanted the world to forever remain oblivious to the problems of the Malfoy's.

Cracking his knuckles, he forced himself to get up, sauntering over to his dresser. Hermione never went through there, for she really wasn't as interested with clothes as he was, so he didn't worry about her looking here. Hoping that her trip with Blaise would take a few more minutes, he opened the second drawer and shifted the clothing around, pulling out a book. Slamming it shut he turned and leaned against the dresser, eyeing the cover briefly before he opened it.

The memories of his childhood slammed back at him tenfold, the happy times blurring together with the bad. A time when his parent's relationship was broken, but Narcissa could still love him for some reason. Now, Draco doubted that she could ever love him at all, if she was able to regain some composure and sanity that is. A time when his father was still an icon in his head, no matter his heavy hand. A time when Draco thought he wanted to grow up and be like his father, only to get older and realize he could never be what his father wanted. He didn't have the icy interior his father harbored; his insides held some warmth, compliments of his mother.

Pictures jumped out at him, the few snapshots capturing the good moments in time for him. His first broom, his first trip to France, and other such events. His father was proud of him back then for embodying the picture of a Malfoy so well. Now he was considered a shame in daddy's eyes, just as Lucius was considered a blemish on the family to Draco. They hated each other like that.

The conversation with his father he recently had jumped back at him, and he recalled all the emotion that floated around in his chest. What did he expect exactly? That his father missed him dearly and wanted to be a better person? No, never, he wasn't that foolish. Lucius wanted to see Narcissa however, and his father was very aware that he'd need Draco's approval to ever see Narcissa again. At eighteen Draco became the man of the house, a year after he became an adult in the wizarding world, and the Manor would listen to him, the wards obeying him before anyone else. Lucius did not have a chance unless he could convince his son to allow him to see his wife.

Draco was pretty sure it was a hopeless idea, but didn't want to say so outright. Now that his father knew his mother was in such a traumatic state, he wondered if his behavior would do a turn around. Would Lucius try to straighten out just to see his wife on last time before her possible demise? Maybe, but Draco wasn't sure whether he would want to see her to grieve for her, or to be angry with her. And that frightened him.

Picking up on footsteps, he quickly turned and opened the drawer once more, shoving the photo album back into its hiding spot. He moved and leaned against the wall beside it, staring out the window, and a moment later the bedroom door opened, and Hermione and Blaise stepped through.

Well, Blaise looked quite peachy, and she looked a bit drained. Suddenly concerned, he stepped forward, only to have his friend thrust his arm out. Staring down at his forearm, he realized what the man was implying.

"She gave you the potion," he said, watching his friend grin like a Cheshire cat. "And since you weren't as involved in the war, since Voldemort's influence on you wasn't as strong, it only took one dose to remove the tattoo."

"Precisely mate," he said, sauntering around the room. "I haven't felt so free in ages!"

"It's uplifting," the blonde agreed, though he couldn't force himself to throw any real happiness into his voice; he was still upset by his own thoughts. Hermione seemed to notice, and grabbed ahold of his hand. The moral support was appreciated.

"It is," Blaise agreed, ignoring how close the two were for a moment as he turned and grabbed Hermione, sweeping her up in a hug. "She's a gem Draco, she really is. Don't let her go." Setting her back beside the blonde, he grinned wider. "Maybe I should go find myself a lady now. Without the Dark Mark, I might not scare all of them away."

"Perhaps," Hermione said, glancing at Draco. Blaise was oblivious to the blonde, seemingly lost in his own fit of joy. "Do you plan to do that now?"

"Fuck yeah I do! Thank you Hermione, I honestly wasn't sure if you would let me have part of that potion or not." Winking at the pair of them, he turned and wandered towards the floo, and Draco took the opportunity to grip her hand again. "I'll stop by again sometime you guys, but don't expect me for a while!" He left without a backwards glance, exhilarated by the removal of the tattoo. A lot of people seemed to get quite excited and happy once the mark was gone.

After Blaise left, she turned to Draco, eyeing him suspiciously. "Is everything alright? You seem tense."

"It's perfectly fine."

"You could've come up with us you know. You didn't have to stay here all alone."

Draco shrugged. "It's fine Hermione, it gave me a chance to relax." Enveloping her in a hug, he hoped she didn't see through his lie.

But she did, even as he pressed her closer. Something was bothering the blonde, and he did a shitty job of hiding it. She had spent enough time with him by that point, and could tell when he was lying almost immediately. It was something she would pester him about, but not 'd give him some time to mull over whatever was going on in his head before she questioned him. Maybe then, his thoughts would be in order.

* * *

**A/n:** Hi-ho! Here's chapter 14, and in record time! I actually wrote this yesterday even O.o I'm on a roll! And, oh look, Blaise did get his tattoo removed. We even got to see a bit into Draco's personal thoughts :) Have anything to say about this chapter? Let me know in a review!

First set of italics copied from chapter 15 of "_His and Her Bruises"_, Aftermath: Cheeks.

Second set of italics implied during the last part of chapter 35 Aftermath: Kiss and chapter 36 Aftermath: Paper, during the time that Hermione is away from the Manor.

* * *

**Important: **I am joining a site for a Fandom that does donations for Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Basically, writers are posting different things for the HP/Twilight/Hunger Games fandoms, and readers can donate to read these new stories 3 months in advance. All donations are giving to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society to help find cures for blood cancers, among all other cancers. Please, visit my profile and take the poll asking what I should write. I'm posting a link there for people to follow, to take you to the page and you can view specific details. There are many fantastic writers participating, each submitting their own work. A small donation allows you to read all the stories on the site, and your money is going towards a wonderful cause. Please vote for what I should write, and then consider donating to the cause.


	15. Aftermath: Broken

**A/n**: Here's chapter fifteen! I hope you enjoy this story darlings. It's very packed and kind of sad, so you know! Thanks to my beta** JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited.

* * *

Days passed, and nothing new happened. Narcissa remained in the same feeble state of mind, barely acknowledging either of them when they visited, and Lucius remained aloof and bitter, trying to cut his son down as often as possible. Hermione was beginning to see why he didn't usually visit them so frequently; the emotional toll was almost too much, even for her. And he was fairing no better.

A week came and went, with no improvements showing anywhere. She tried to tell him that it was time to take them to St. Mungo's, but he wouldn't even look her way. He wouldn't admit that this family was broken, not that much.

One morning, nearly two weeks after Hermione removed Blaise's tattoo, she received a note from the Italian.

_Hermione~_

_I really appreciate what you've done for me. Dealing with that mark was never as horrid for me as it was for others, but nonetheless I feel this huge weight has lifted up off my shoulders since that day. Really, what you've created is completely astounding. All the pent up anger and unknown aggression that lingered inside my soul has disappeared, as though I have finally found a way to live again. I thought for so long that the anger was all my own, but now I realize that it's a side effect from the Dark Mark lingering for too long. The dark feelings inside weren't really me, and now that it's gone I can see that. _

_That's actually why I'm owling you today. See, I'm sure you and Draco have enough going through your minds, handing his parents and all- yes, I've known about that for a while- but something occurred to me. Draco mentioned feeling elated as well when he got the tattoo removed in one of his letters, though I'm sure that inner glee is weighed down by all his stress. He probably doesn't realize how happy he could be, and that's my point. I think the tattoo suppresses all your anger and keeps it compressed inside. That's how it felt for me, and from Draco's explanation, that's how it was for him too. _

_Look, he'll probably be unhappy about me sharing this with you, but I couldn't hold back anymore. He's set in his ways to keep his family out of the media's eye, but even the condition of his mother the last time I saw her ages ago, I didn't think she was going to make it. After such a long time, I'm sure it's only gotten worse. But Draco can't admit that his family is broken, not really. He's too proud. So here's my theory Hermione._

_As an experienced person on this matter, I would say that the Dark Mark is a sure fire way to make sure people never heal from the pains of war. It keeps too much anger inside, suppressing it to the brink of explosion. Maybe that was Voldemort's intention all along, I don't know. _

_My point is that Lucius and Narcissa still have their tattoos, right? They spent time in Azkaban suffering, right? Well, maybe the tattoos are keeping them from getting better alongside other things of course. It's something that occurred to me. I know that Narcissa's currents standing is more a mental matter than physical, but perhaps if she didn't feel so weighed down by the anger and terrors within she might break the thaw and actually be a person again. It's only a theory of course. _

_Take this with a grain of salt Hermione, because I'm not sure if this can literally be an explanation in any way, shape or form, but it's something that's been bothering me. Right now your judgment, along with Draco's, is clouded because you're overly emotionally tied into this experience. You're there for him, and he's struggling to stand by two failing souls. You don't see this the way I do, and chances are that you don't have the time, since you're always doing something over there. _

_I hope I haven't confused you too much, although this entire analysis sounds a bit deranged, don't you think? I'm going to be out of reach for the next two weeks; I found a cute French girl the other day and we're going to one of my homes in Italy, so I won't be responding to anything until that escapade is over. I know it doesn't matter to you, but this is super uplifting for me!_

_I wish you luck. Take care of Draco, okay? He's going to break under the pressure of things at some point, and he's going to need you to be there to catch him like he once caught you. Don't disappear when he needs you the most Hermione._

_~Blaise._

She reread the note about six times, trying to figure out what the hell she was reading. So Zabini thought that there was a connection between the anger and darkness inside of you? She couldn't lie, the same idea crossed her mind once upon a time when she removed Draco's mark and his mood improved for a short time. But the results were short-lived, given that he was still worried about his parents, just like Blaise said. She wondered how much Draco had told his friend.

Nonetheless, the idea was quite compelling. Would Draco be against letting her put her potion on his parents if it meant that there might be a breakthrough? She wasn't sure.

Hermione read the note again. Blaise must've taken ages to come up with that analysis, literally thinking about only that for certain amounts of time. There was a possibility that this might work, and there was a possibility that Lucius might take her arm off with his cane if she got near him. Either or.

The problem might be convincing Draco though. She wasn't sure how he would take this proposal, or if it would be a good idea. Considering his parents mental state of mind, having something poured on their arm that bubbles might be a bit alarming. She thought it would be best to test it on Lucius first to see what happened, considering that Narcissa was so much worse off. Draco might agree to that at least.

But it was his parents, and in all honesty she wasn't really certain how many chances he was willing to take with them. They were fractured after their stays in Azkaban, coming back as altered, affected people. He could be fearful that this would change them more and disregard the idea. But would a change like that be for better or worse?

She bit her lip. The idea was far-fetched; really, it was, when you put it alongside all natural healing and conversing with a damaged person. She was certain that would be the prescribed medication a family member could give someone at St. Mungo's, even if the results were negative. Sure, getting Lucius to talk on occasion was okay, but it wasn't anything more than a baby step forward. And Draco had been stressing lately about only making baby steps forward.

He wanted to see s big difference. He wanted to see his parents- or at least his mother- get better. And so far, nothing was working.

Hermione peeked back at the bathroom door, hearing the water still running in there. The blonde was showering again for the third time that day; taking the water as hot as he could to relieve stress. She didn't think it was actually helping at all, but he kept doing it anyway.

Tucking the letter inside one of her shirts in the dresser, she wandered to the bed and took a seat. How would she even bring something like that up without either upsetting him or angering him? She had no idea.

Lying back, she closed her eyes. She wasn't really sure if Blaise's message was a blessing or a burden.

* * *

He joined her in bed not too long after she laid down, his hair still dripping wet and his body warm from the water. He slipped in, already prepared for a nap, and she snuggled in beside him, her mind spinning.

She started by kissing him, getting his mind nice and detached from reality. He always loved when she kissed him, and to up the action a bid she trailed a hand up and down his naked torso, feeling him quiver next to her. Although he always shied away from here, there was no denying that she turned him on, no matter what he said. And she kind of loved having that power over him.

It was such a different world from how their first kiss had been.

_It felt better, and her heart soared as other parts of her body tingled. It had been so long since someone held her like this, possessively, lovingly, and just kissed her with that kind of feeling. She felt herself drifting off to cloud nine, lost in the ferocity of his lips and the heat of their bodies now laying tight against each other on the mattress. Nothing had ever felt so right._

_For a moment, she couldn't recall any other kiss that rocked her world like this, not even Ron's._

_And then that moment was shattered._

_Hermione continued to kiss him intensely, one of her hands gripping at his shoulder now. But despite the moment of heated kisses and unspoken words, she couldn't help the thought that was peeking through at the back of her mind, as though telling her she was missing something about this picture here._

_Like she was missing a piece of a puzzle as to why he kissed her so eagerly. There was a distinct difference in a person's behavior when they feel something for you, and when they utterly want you._

_The unknown thought tickled at the back of her mind, disrupting what would otherwise be the absolute perfect moment. One of his hands snaked down to grip her hip, pulling her body flush against his own without his lips ever leaving hers. That's when she felt the thought in her mind explode._

_She had been kissed like this once, but only once before. It was nothing like this though, not as far as physical activity went. It was an unexpected kiss then, one that caught her completely off-guard and made her weary of his intentions, but caused her heart to flutter nonetheless. A kiss from someone she deemed the enemy. A kiss that rocked her world._

_A kiss that had been lost in time. Only now was she beginning to recall the only other moment in time when she had been intimate with someone outside of Ron, outside her limited circle of romance. A kiss given to her during a time when the odds seemed to be standing on a fence, indecisive on who would win the outcome of the war. He was the enemy then, someone that beat her up as school children, and then saved her life and let her go free as a young adult. Someone she had never fully understood in her lifetime._

They had chemistry now, a rhythm, one that she really enjoyed. Heating up, he pulled her on top of him, hands on her arse. Well, now things were taking a different turn from her goal, and she wasn't quite sure whether she should stop him and say what she needed or let him continue.

A single roll of his hips decided for her, and she groaned into his mouth, causing him to shiver. How things escalated from there, she wasn't really sure, but there was nothing kind and sincere in his kisses as they continued like there normally was. There was only a searing need, one which wanted to swallow her whole. Never before had he seemed so desperate for her affections, and that scared her a bit.

Hermione couldn't stop him as he continued, wouldn't, and dropped her walls as he kissed her, licked her, devoured her. There was this fragility in his eyes that she'd never seen before, a look of utter uncertainty that lingered there longer than a few scarce seconds. He seemed barren to her, as though he was trying to block the ice inside of him, that cold feeling that was creeping up. Only, she wasn't completely sure what had his so unstable.

When he spread her open and took her, it was not as she imagined. Considering the lust building between them, she'd figured their first time together would be something along the lines of animalistic sex, hard and rough and fast. That's what she was prepared for, but not what she got.

There was nothing animalistic about his actions, carnal, or otherwise. But there was passion, so much passion as he pounded in and out of her, a fast rhythm accompanied by no moans. He was too focused, and she was too busy observing to even think about how amazing he felt.

He was fractured, broken around the edges just as Blaise predicted, just as she feared. As he finished in her he kissed her forehead then rolled away, staring up at the ceiling.

Hermione didn't question him like she intended to that day; she couldn't muster the courage. She'd never seen him cry, for anything. And she had not asked him upon his return how his visit with his mother went.

But it was written there in black and white across the contours of his face, etched into his very expression of pain. She was concerned as they lay there in the aftermath of things, sharing that first experience in a way she never imagined. Hermione never expected him to be so broken when it finally came around.

She couldn't take it anymore and rolled over on her side, wiping away a tear with her thumb. "Draco," she whispered, "What happened?"

* * *

**A/n:** Yup, that's all I can really say. Let me know what you thought!

**Important**: I am joining a site for a Fandom that does donations for Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Basically, writers are posting different things for the HP/Twilight/Hunger Games fandoms, and readers can donate to read these new stories 3 months in advance. All donations are giving to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society to help find cures for blood cancers, among all other cancers. Please, visit my profile and take the poll asking what I should write. I'm posting a link there for people to follow, to take you to the page and you can view specific details. There are many fantastic writers participating, each submitting their own work. A small donation allows you to read all the stories on the site, and your money is going towards a wonderful cause. Please vote for what I should write, and then consider donating to the cause.


	16. Aftermath: Dying

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! Not yet edited.

"She's dying," he said, rubbing his temples. He'd left her to shower and calm himself before he even attempted to speak. Now they sat in bed, his hands clasped together. "I went to see her and she'd been having seizures. The elves are watching her now; I had to come back up here. I've… I've owled a Healer at St. Mungo's. Someone's coming tomorrow to examine her."

Hermione tilted her head, eyeing him. "You need to take her in. I know you don't want to, but if she's that bad then you can't just leave her here to suffer."

"I know!" he growled, but she could hear the angst in his voice. "I know. I just wanted an analysis. Once I know how bad she is, I'll decide what to do."

She pursed her lips. "You know what you're probably going to have to do, right? If she's begun having seizures she can't remain here. In her condition it's considered a serious hazard. I mean, I know you're not stupid enough to risk her life. I know you don't want her going to the emergency room, but it might not be avoidable anymore." She rubbed his hand, but he pulled away and the woman sighed. "She needs medical attention, more so than what can be offered by an in-house call."

"I know," he groaned, moving away from her to stand. "I know. But I don't want her mistreated there."

"She's a patient! No matter her background, St. Mungo's is a building prided on their treatment towards patients. Whether your family is a renounced Death Eater group or not you won't suffer there. Everyone is treated equally, and you have money out the arse, so what's your real excuse?" She crossed her arms. "For a while I've been thinking that it has to really do with your fear at losing your mother, but at this point you should be more concerned about what can happen to her in this place! She's not going to last here Draco, especially if you think she's already on her way downhill."

She watched his hands flex and unflex, forming fists briefly. "I don't know," he whispered.

"Then think on it!" she spat, realizing that her presence could do nothing good at this point. Shoving past him, she made her way to the door. "I'm going to get some air, and give you some time to really think. Really, really think about how dangerous this is for he Draco." When he said nothing, she shoved the door open and left him to his thoughts.

_He's insane! This will sooner kill Narcissa than help her! I can't imagine what propels him to make such a silly choice, but he better come to his senses soon. _Storming down the hallway she made her way up to the lab, entering with a hard push of the door. It banged on the wall with a loud thud, but she barely paid it any mind. She had eyes only for the potion bottle sitting on the table.

Sitting down, she eyed it. Blaise's note rang in her head.

_My point is that Lucius and Narcissa still have their tattoos, right? They spent time in Azkaban suffering, right? Well, maybe the tattoos are keeping them from getting better alongside other things of course. It's something that occurred to me. I know that Narcissa's currents standing is more a mental matter than physical, but perhaps if she didn't feel so weighed down by the anger and terrors within she might break the thaw and actually be a person again. It's only a theory of course._

Considering how fucking well things were going he might have a point. If Narcissa's condition was only getting worse, what did they have to lose by giving her a bit of the potion to see if the removal of her tattoo would drive her back to sanity or not? Sighing, deciding that she was a bit mad to even be considering this, she snatched up the bottle and put it in her pocket, exiting the room. She would go and have a look at the woman if nothing else. Some walking would do her good.

Hermione really hoped Draco would listen to her idea if nothing else- well Blaise's. It was good that he was having someone come over in the morning, but she wasn't a fool, she knew he would only bring worse news than the blonde already had. And once patients were admitted to St. Mungo's, no outside potions could get to them through the wards. If removing the tattoo was even a possibility, they were going to have to do something, and soon. She predicted that if the analysis was bad enough, that he would be taking his mother to St. Mungo's soon enough, if only to try and keep her alive. That meant that the window to try out this idea was very limited.

Wandering back to Narcissa's room, Hermione was thankful that she had a good memory, lest she would probably get lost. Yet she reached the woman's room in only a few short minutes, having jogged half the way now that the situation was serious. She hadn't realized she was so concerned about the woman's declining health until that point. The brunette moved to knock on the door, but then hesitated, dropping her hand. If the elves saw her, they might unfortunately tattle to Draco, no matter what she asked of them. And she didn't want anyone telling him she was there unless it was her herself. It would come off better if she was the one who told him.

Taking a breath, she decided to try something different. Grabbing the door handle she gave it a turn, and was satisfied to find that it moved smoothly. Gently opening the door a crack, she peered in, remembering that Narcissa's bed was near the door. She gasped.

The woman was awful looking, with blood dripping from her nose, the stench of lingering vomit still hidden someplace in the room, and the diluted color of her hair. It almost appeared white. The woman had her eyes closed currently, though she was groaning quietly. It looked like things were under control for the time being since only three elves stood in the room, but they all looked on at the lady of the house with scared eyes and their ears flattened against their heads. They looked frightened.

"Scary," isn't it?" someone said, and she jumped, slamming the door shut as she spun around. Draco was leaning on the wall opposite her, looking at the ground. She let out a breath.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I heard you run by," he replied, sinking into the floor. "I just followed. What are you doing here?"

She sighed, walking to his side so they could sit together on the floor. "I wanted to see how bad it was."

"It's pretty bad," he whispered, "more so when she's awake. Now all she does is beg for pain relief or sleep. It's… frightening."

"I imagine so," Hermione agreed, wrapping her arms around one of his own. "You should've dragged me down here as soon as things went wrong. I may have been able to help."

"Or we would've been in the way of the elves if you couldn't. Fuck Hermione, there were so many in there today. It was terrible."

She nodded, and the pair grew silent. Words lingered on her tongue, stuck inside her mouth. She wanted to bring up the potion and Blaise, but didn't want to upset him at this difficult time. He really did look heartbroken. But, she thought there was a sliver of hope within the Italian's analysis, and maybe that's what Draco needed just then.

"Blaise had a speculation about all of this," she began, and he glanced her way. "He sent me a note about it. I finished reading it right before you came back upstairs. I didn't want to bring it up then, but there might actually be something to his idea."

"What is it?" the man asked, sounding a bit frightened. She untangled herself from his arms, pulling out the vial.

"He thinks we need to try this on your parents. The two of you are proof enough that people get happier when that mark isn't on their skin. Perhaps if the darkness laced in the tattoo was removed from your parents, their conditions wouldn't be so extreme. I mean yeah, it's a long shot, but really, what is there to lose? The idea is actually possible, and it can't hurt to try, right?"

The blonde was silent for many moments, before he pursed his lips and stood, placing a hand to his forehead. "My mother is very sick Hermione. We can't just go around trying potions on her. The result could only be more detrimental. I refuse to cause her anymore pain."

"I agree," she said, holding up her hands. "Before you jump to conclusions, it wasn't my idea to try it behind your back, honest! I brought it along because it was on my mind, and I went up to the potions room to look at it. I'd sooner try it on your father than your mother Draco. He might not be well either, but at least he's better off. She would only be given this once we know that it doesn't have any side effects that could hurt her, yes? I'm not going to jeopardize her you know Draco, I promise. It's just a theory, okay?"

"I know," he said as she stood up. "I know, I do. And I trust you to not be rash with your decisions Hermione, considering how far you've come in the last few months since you got away from Weasley. But that doesn't really help me, you know? I'm still concerned about what it might do to her. She's so gone already." He sounded broken again.

"That's why she wouldn't be given the potion first. It worked on you and Blaise, so why not your father as well? I'm not sure you want to go down that road, but if you do-"

"If it'll help my mother, then yes, I will. Lucius is at least a bit more stable, even if his mind is just as twisted as my mother's these days. We can test it a bit later, once we've eaten something."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Tonight? It's almost ten."

"So?" He grabbed her shoulders lightly, looking into her eyes. "Hermione, if you had a chance to save your parents from something like this, wouldn't you take it? We might need to eat something really quick, but that doesn't mean that I'll wait until the Healer's analysis tomorrow. I wouldn't want you going alone, and if there's anything wrong with it I'd rather we had the time and the proper mindset to do something. They aren't as clear-cut as Blaise and I were. Their minds are poisoned, broken more so than mine is. It could be harder to… help."

"I understand," she said, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I just don't want you pushing things too quickly. The emotional toll might be too much all at once."

"We have to get it done before… if my mother goes to St. Mungo's though," he reminded.

"I'm aware, but unless the Healer coming refuses to let her stay here another moment, we have some time."

"And if he does make me take her there as soon as possible to save her life? What then?"

Hermione sighed, giving up. He was currently too determined and too stuck in one mindset to listen to her. "Fine, you have a point. After we eat something we'll go see your father. Keep in mind though Draco that he may not be as willing to part with his tattoo as quickly, nor will his disappear as quickly either. He's had his since before you were even born. It could take four or five doses to even remove it."

"I'm aware," he said, grasping her hand. "Please, let's go eat."

Nodding, she let him pull her down the hall, away from his mother's room. Try as he may to hide it, it was obvious that he was really concerned about his parents, and eager to test this idea out. Anything, anything at all to save his parents- or, specifically, his mother. She got the feeling that there was still a lot of resentment between Draco and his father.

And she feared that once the elder Malfoy was healed, that resentment would really shine through.

* * *

**A/N: **Yay another chapter! Please leave a review buddies! They've dropped a lot recently, so don't forget to leave some feedback! Until next time :)

Don't forget you can check out my facebook page link and the link for the Leukemia stories donations! Please follow the link and donate to a great cause! You get to read lots of stories ahead of time too!


	17. Aftermath: Hate

**A/n:** Here's a new chapter! Enjoy! Thanks to my beta** JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited.

The potion vial in Hermione's pocket felt ridiculously heavy as she trekked behind Draco back to his father's wing. The study they found him in last time was abandoned, and the blonde actually turned around a backtracked a bit to avoid passing a room at the end of the hall simply to get to the next hall. He really avoided that back bedroom, and she really wanted to know the reasoning behind it all.

It was just a bedroom, right? But apparently, it was more than that. It was a bedroom full of secrets, secrets she wondered if she would ever figure out.

It took almost another ten minutes to locate Lucius. This was the furthest Hermione had ever gone into Lucius's side of the Manor, and she wasn't surprised to find that it was in disrepair all over. Nothing seemed to be in tip-top shape anymore, and she wondered if this was caused by the war or the man himself. Considering how his meeting with Draco went last time, she wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter.

Lucius sat in an empty room this time- on the floor, Merlin forbid- with his cane halfway across the room and a bleak expression in his eyes. Briefly she wondered if he had fallen, but didn't have much time to consider it as Draco was suddenly in her pockets, invading her personal space as he searched for the potion bottle. One he found it he paused, as though realizing how pushy and aggressive he was being. Looking up at her, he noted that her eyebrows were high on her head.

"Sorry," he whispered, kissing her cheek apologetically. "I don't mean to be rude."

She had nothing to say, and he turned away without another word. She wasn't quite sure if she was surprised how quickly he jumped into the situation, mortified that his father was watching them as the boy seemingly searched all over her or irritated that he couldn't just ask for the bloody thing. Instead of saying anything though she pressed her lips into a thin line, deciding to hold off on saying anything until their trip back when the elder Malfoy wasn't around to listen in.

"Can I see her?" he asked as Draco approached. Hermione's eyes widened and she scooted to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the man. He was staring at his son, jaw slack, eyes wide, pleading with the boy to let him go free and see his wife. It was appalling, considering that she had never seen the regal Malfoy appear so… broken.

He looked beaten, his stature dead and unrecoverable now. Dead like his wife's eyes when Hermione stole a peek at the woman. Her eyes widened a hair. He seemed to be slipping a bit, if his sunken back and dropped head was any indication of submission. Never in her life had she seen the man appear so lifeless and finished. He didn't seem able to put up a fight.

Draco seemed a bit started by the question as well and paused a foot or two in front of his father, staring at the man with wide eyes. But his composure snapped back into place quicker than her's did, his actions fueled by simmering disgust.

"No," he snapped, crossing his arms. "But you can help her. Mother is dying father, as I'm sure you've predicted for a while now. There's little that can be done, but Hermione here discovered something that did, to an extent, cure the boiling anger and darkness inside of me. I would like you to give it a try."

The man looked confused, staring up at his son for many moments. If she was honest with herself, she thought the blonde was being a bit cruel to his father. Who doesn't deserve to see their wife during her last days? But she wouldn't voice that question now, not during this sensitive time between father and son. She spent most of her time around Draco, and could save all of her questions from this experience until further notice. They did share a bed; it wasn't like he could hide too long.

"What did you bring?" the man asked, ignoring the brunette back against the wall. "You bring me poison? Is this how you plan to end your father Draco?"

"If I ever end you, daddy dearest, it will not be in the presence of another." He jerked his head back towards Hermione, and she wondered how serious that threat truly was. "Like I already said, this is something she created." Grabbing the sleeve of his shirt, he pulled the material up to bare his naked forearm. "She made something father, to remove the fucking tattoo."

Lucius' eyes widened, and Hermione finally saw something register across his face. Apparently his play on insanity was just that, a fake, and he still seemed to have all of his wits about him. He looked back at her, and she inclined her head in his direction, remaining against the wall. He was on his feet faster than she thought possible, considering she wasn't sure he would move without his cane.

"_She _removed it? The M-"

The punch that followed jarred the elder Malfoy's head, sending it snapping back against the wall. Hermione's eardrums rang at the sound, and panicked about how quickly things were developing she took a few steps forward then hesitated, as the elder man turned back. They both stood quite a bit taller than she did, with the elder Malfoy only an inch or so shorter than Draco.

"I see you're still protecting her," he spat, spitting on the ground. She noted that the result was red, and wondered if he bit his tongue or if the extent of the damage went further than that. "How endearing."

Draco seemed to ignore his father's jab entirely, holding the potion bottle out again. "Like I said father before you went on yoru tangent father, _she_ created it. It removed my tattoo after only a few doses, and it might be able to remove yours and mother's as well."

"Why would I want to lose my tattoo?" he sneered, peering between the two. "You may have seen it as a figment of shame Draco, but I always saw it as honor."

"Oh, I know," the younger Malfoy replied, rolling his eyes. "You've always been like that. But statistically it made me feel better, and Blaise had the same process done. He's feeling elated recently, which is why I'm even offering this to you. Personally, I think you do deserve to suffer in Voldemort's wake. You were certainly committed to him long enough that it's no less than what you deserve. But I'm not concerned about you, and if I wasn't using you as a test subject before giving it to mother, I wouldn't even bother with you. You can suffer for all I care."

His father's eyes shined briefly, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You think it will help her?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know, your marks are much older than my own. It could take many doses to have an effect at all. And we're running out of time father, so I'd much rather not waste more time on the matter."

He stepped back from his son again, pressing his back to the wall. His gaze fell sideways, staring at a spot somewhere on the floor between the two adults. "How bad, Draco?"

"A Healer is coming in the morning to give me an analysis on her declining health. She was seizing this morning and I decided to not hold off. They might have to take her to St. Mungo's if she's too far gone, and then any hope of actually trying to use this potion to help her is gone."

Hermione could hear the despair laced in her boyfriends voice, but continued to stare at the crestfallen Lucius. For the first time since arriving there, they seemed to share the same emotion, and it wasn't anger. They were both suffering from Narcissa's declining health, even if they seemed to be ignoring the fact. Apparently, she was always the glue that held their family together. And now that she was slipping away, the family was fracturing a bit more each day. If the woman did die, she wondered if the Malfoy men would sever their connections forever. It was apparent that neither of them liked spending too much time with the other at any given time.

"Will you let them take her?" Lucius asked, and Hermione shook her head, popping back into reality instead of following her drifting thoughts. "Will you let her go to St. Mungo's?"

"If it's the only way to save her life absolutely! We have the finances, so it's certainly not a problem." She inclined an eyebrow, having said that same thing once upon a time. "But if I can keep her here, get her better and moving and alive again, I would. St. Mungo's is the last resort, but after the seizures, I won't continue to ignore the places existence. Someone's coming to see her, and based on their analysis I'll make my decision." He extended his arm with the potion in it closer to his father. "And I'd prefer to put the effect of this potion into the picture as well. If it lessens the ice in your soul, it will certainly thaw mothers. Her's is more about suppressed anger and looming darkness than an honest- to –Merlin black heart, and I'm hoping it shall make a difference. Now if you ever truly loved your wife, you'll do this for her."

Both the woman's eyebrows shot up, wondering if a fight would ensue from that. But nothing came, and the elder Malfoy only hesitated a few moments before pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. She dared to take a few steps closer, peering at the tattoo.

Lucius' tattoo was far darker than Draco's was. She assumed that it had to do with how old the dark magic was, but couldn't think too clearly as she watched the pair bicker briefly before the older blonde leveled his arm out and her boyfriend uncorked the vial, pouring some of the potion down on the mark. It bubbled as usual, and Draco had to grab his father's arm to keep him from yanking his arm away in surprise, possibly causing the potion to slide off and prove useless.

The trio stared down at the mark, watching as the process took place. Lucius looked apprehensive, Draco uptight and concerned, and Hermione interested.

The potion evaporated away into nothing. In its wake it initially left no difference. But after a single moment of feeling crestfallen, Hermione realized something. It was grey now, not black. The permanent, cursed ink was fading in color, something that should not happen. But it did on the tattoo, and Lucius actually looked up at the pair, the smallest glimpse of a light shining in his eyes.

"We're leaving," Draco spat, spinning around while Hermione was still trying to factor how many doses of the potion it would take to remove the tattoo at that rate. He swung around, grabbed her wrist and started pulling her towards the door.

"Wait- what?!" she pulled out of his grip, placing her hands on her hips. "What are you doing? We just started figuring this out!"

"I got what I came here for," he replied, shrugging as he out rightly ignored the figure of his father moving on his right. "I won't waste another moment here." He turned but she caught his shoulder.

"Draco," she said, dropping her tone a bit, "You can't just do that to someone. He actually looks a bit lighter."

"And that's my problem?" he hissed, turning back. "He wouldn't pay me the same respect if positions were switched, he would do this exact same thing to me without hesitation. I don't feel indebted to him."

"Be the bigger person," she whispered, refusing to lesson her grip on his shoulder. Her eyes flinted back towards the man on the side of the room, who was looking on at them with curious eyes. One had to admit, he did look a bit less tormented. A figment of a smile almost played at his lips, but Hermione dismissed that as an allusion. It was too soon for the man to be _smiling_. "The situation is like this now for a reason. You have the leverage and he doesn't. Be the man your father never could be and see past the bad someone has done. Try and do something good for him."

"What do I owe him?" he spat, not bothering to keep his voice down. "He never did anything for me. He tried to shape me into a mini- version of himself, fashioned me to be his prodigy when I was never given an ounce of time to really find myself in his presence. You don't know the back-story Hermione, not all of it. You don't really understand why I can't stand him so much."

"Because you've never told me!" she hissed. "How can I understand something I haven't even been informed about? I'm sure it's bad Draco; I don't doubt that given how twisted things always seem to be beneath the surface. But if everyone in life could only hold onto the bad things, there would be no room for the good. Sometimes you need to just let go of things."

He shook his head at her. "You don't get it Hermione, and you might never really understand. If you don't mind though, I'm going back to see my mother, someone I _actually_ care about!" He pushed her back, storming out of the space without her. She remained behind him, watching him go. When she could no longer hear his steps, she glanced back at Lucius, who was looking intently at her.

"Why don't you follow him?" he mused. "He'll be very concerned if you stay behind."

Hermione decided not to reply, thinking that if she let anything slip it might come up in an argument between the two Malfoy's later. But before she turned and left she took a step closer, really examining the elder Malfoy.

"You don't look so haunted."

"And I don't feel so haunted… Granger," he replied, though it seemed to take him quite a bit of effort to mutter her last name and not the 'M' word he kept using. "I don't see why it matters though. Draco will never again give me that potion."

She shook her head, though she knew he was right. "How did you do it? You and you wife have been isolated from each other, as well as any other human contact for Merlin knows how long. If she went insane, then what drove you to keep your sanity?"

He barked out a laugh, but Hermione didn't even flinch at the sound. "The strong-minded often remain that way Miss Granger. Being locked away only allots more time to think on your life."

"And what a disappointment it has been?" she asked, unable to keep the question off her lips. He soured at that. "Your family fell from its high perch after the war Lucius, you cannot be oblivious to that. You're not the renounced family you once were- nay, you're often the butt of a joke. But you wouldn't know any of this, since you have spent so long shut away."

"It was not by choice," he spat, eyeing her. "My son was more concerned about my wife's well-being than my own when we returned. He chose to invest more time into Narcissa, who by all rights needed it." His eyes grew sad and she backed away, uncertain what that meant. "She'd never been to Azkaban before, she'd never seen the horrors. Cissy wasn't doing too well when the war ended; she was upset with herself for letting Draco get tangled into it, for letting our family be hurt because of it, and she took it out on herself. In Azkaban, the prisoners saw her as any easy target. She broken under the pressure, under the harsh words of those imprisoned around her. They taunted and belittled her, and her resolve disappeared. She didn't fight very long in Azkaban, and when we returned, well, when we returned, it was easy to see. Draco saw this, and helped her instead of me. He blames me for our imprisonment. He's always blamed me."

Hermione continued to back away as the man fell forward, shocking her as he landed on his hands and knees. She'd never seen the proud man so slow, so belittled and broken under the hands of pressure. A sob tore through his throat and she flattened herself against the wall, watching the carefully seamed Lucius Malfoy breaking.

"You don't know what it's like Miss Granger, to lose everything you've ever had in one blow. My family won't even stand by my side. And Draco won't spare the time to see my needs as well. You best get out of here. He will be terrified as to what has happened to you if you don't get along. Another thing he would blame on me."

Not needing an ounce of encouragement, she turned and fled the scene. With every step she took she felt the weight of the situation falling on her, telling her to turn back. But she couldn't, and stopped only one hall down, panting. Never before had she seen the aristocratic man become so undone and break so badly. Had the absolute denial of his son's affections been that bad? After being ignored by Draco so long, why did it hit home now?

She couldn't even fathom the reason behind things, and sank into the floor. More than anything, she wished she hadn't come along. She wouldn't be having this inner debate now if she'd only waited back in the room for Draco's return.

* * *

**A/n:** Lucius is super bipolar, isn't he? Well, of course! Go ahead and leave a review darlings, your thoughts really help! And this chapter was fun to write ;)

Don't forget you can still sign up to donate to the Leukemia site if you follow the link on my profile. Come read some amazing stories and help with a great cause :D


	18. Aftermath: Over

**A/n: **Thanks to my awesome beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited.

* * *

It took Hermione a long time to get up and trudge back to Draco's room. For the first time, he didn't come looking for her. He probably had other things on his mind, which was fine. It gave her all the time she needed to get up and walk away from the events unfolding before her that night. She wanted nothing more than to slip beneath the covers of his bed and sleep the day away, forgetting about everything she kept discovering. Besides, she would need to be well rested for whenever she decided to bring up to Draco that he could always save his father too.

That was something she didn't want to mention at prior though. She preferred to not make him any angrier or more upset than he already was. That really wouldn't help anyone.

Yet she couldn't help herself from getting curious about that door at the end of the hall as began wandering back towards his rooms. The door that led someplace he dreaded, somewhere he couldn't stand. Curiosity pulled at her until she found herself standing in front of that door, peering at it, and almost immediately she felt the air change. This was a forsaken place, a place of bad things. The entire atmosphere made her feel unsettled, and she doubted her choice to come and seek the door out. Something awful happened there, for not even Lucius seemed to frequent near the door.

She extended a hand and rested her fingertips on the door handle, weighing her options. She could sneak in and see what this room was, what it looked like, and maybe discover why both Malfoy men seemed to avoid it, but she might upset her boyfriend if she visited the place. Or she could step away and wait, and learn the secret whenever Draco decided to unveil it.

Dropping her hand, she turned and ran away, putting as much distance between her and the tempting- though frightening- room. She knew it was best if she just waited for Draco to tell her, to show her in his own time whenever he felt ready, but that didn't mean that she wasn't feeling very curious.

And she really wanted to know. She felt that a lot of things revolved around that single space.

* * *

They slept well that night, Draco disappearing into a deep sleep faster than she did. For many hours she lay awake, listening to his rythmatic breathing, letting that be her lullaby as she sought out sleep.

She awoke around noon the following day to an annoying tapping sound only to find Draco still fast asleep in bed. Hermione let him be for the moment, knowing that he had a lot on his mind and that sleep was good. Getting out of bed, she discovered an owl perched outside his window and let it in. How interesting.

Taking the letter from the bird, she frowned. A letter from her lawyer during her case against Ron? Well, whatever could he want?

_Miss Granger~_

_I'm sure you're curious as to why I've gotten a hold of you after several months have passed since your case. I have heard about the retrial on your ex, and I must say that it's utter rubbish. If anyone lets him off with insanity plea that's a crime within itself. Rest assured though Miss Granger, that I do not believe the courts will lean in his favor this time or any other. The evidence is very clearly there in black and white, written across the guilty papers and all the testimonies you as well as others made. I do not see him getting off without some time in Azkaban, you can be certain of that._

_But I did not owl you today Miss simply to try and instill a bit of confidence in you that Mr. Weasley will pay. An anonymous source brought up a point the other day, owling the Ministry- and specially, myself- about a particular note that was supposed to be used to spy. I actually still have this note in my possession, and took the time to observe it. It's indeed something that could track conversations, which you of course know is illegal. After turning this bit of evidence in to be brought up in the retrial, Miss Brown was put up under the charge of possession of illegal magical items. They have both been tried now, and results should be spread across the papers soon enough._

Hermione smiled softly at the note. Considering the few people who actually knew of the notes existence, she knew it was Seamus who tipped off the Ministry. He actually did good on that count. It seemed that he really did want to make up for everything he did.

She personally hoped Lavender received something, and that Ron kept his original punishment. With all the other stresses in her life stacking up, she really didn't want to be worrying about that as well. Once that was done and over with, she could breathe easy about the whole Ron/Lavender topic. If the lawyer was correct, then she should have nothing to worry about. She hoped he was right.

Glancing back at the bed, she noted that Draco was still asleep, lost someplace in dream land. It looked so inviting to crawl back in beside him, and after giving the bird a treat and sending it away she tore the letter up and slid back beneath the covers. That ended up turning out better than she thought it would. Now maybe she could catch a bit more sleep before she really had to be up for the day.

* * *

"You have to take things slow," she reminded him, rubbing his shoulders as they stood outside his mother's bedroom, waiting for an analysis. After being in there for several minutes alone, as he requested that only family come in, Draco had yet to come down. The Healer's face looked grave, and she was concerned about what he would report about Draco's mother. Mostly, she was worried about how he would take it. "Deep breaths."

"I'm not going to calm down," he said, leaning back against the wall and she stepped away from him. "I just couldn't be in there anymore. I couldn't stand in there and watch his eyes get sadder and sadder the longer he observed her. He doesn't seem to have a lot of faith."

"You don't either from the sound of it," she pointed out, placing her hands on her hips. "Don't jump to conclusions and scare yourself Draco, we haven't even spoken to him since he shut me out. There could be something that can be done."

"Or maybe there's nothing we can do at all," he sighed. "Maybe it's hopeless."

"Now you're being a downer," she said, patting his hand. "Just wait and see what he has to say."

"And what if it's bad?" he asked, looking away. "What if he tells me there's nothing that can be done Hermione? What then? Would using the potion even be worthwhile?"

Gently, she reached up and touched his face. "I'll stay around and help you as much as I can," she said, kissing his cheek. She couldn't say anything else, for she didn't know what the call-in Healer was discovering. He might not even be able to figure out too much while they were still at the Manor. He might need to be at St. Mungo's to do a proper analysis.

They stood in silence as the minutes dragged on, not touching, lost in their own thoughts. He was troubled by what might happen to his mother, what the verdict would be, and how close he was to losing her. On top of that, he also had several instances with his father to worry about. As for Hermione, she was busy worrying over Draco. She hadn't even bothered to tell him the bit about Lavender and Ron yet.

The door opened less than fifteen minutes later, and Draco was bolted upright from the wall, startling Hermione and the Healer. Yet the man refused to speak on the subject until Draco calmed down a bit, and even then he looked at the man with weary eyes.

"She's sick Mr. Malfoy," the man began, stating the obvious. "It's difficult to tell what exactly is dragging her down, but she seems to have been living under these circumstances for a while. You might treat her well, but this system of treatment won't match up to what St. Mungo's can accomplish. Her health is deteriorating, yet for the life of me I cannot tell you what exactly the issue is. I think if she were to receive some proper treatment Mr. Malfoy, which I highly advise, that the problem might be able to be located. However, you have to take into account that she is very obviously dying. Although the transportation to St. Mungo's might not be killer, her days are numbered. Whatever has infected her body is working quickly to kill her, and if you don't act fast she surely won't survive more than a few weeks. Repositioning her to St. Mungo's might make the deterioration more… comfortable."

She saw him tightening up long before Draco said anything, and she extended her hand, massaging the back of his as the only form of comfort she could come up with. He remained rod still, not allowing her attempt to break through his cold exterior.

"And how long would she have if I did sent her to St. Mungos?" he asked, his tone tight, laced with venom. She sincerely wished she had taken his wand beforehand, just in case he snapped. He didn't look pleased, not that she expected him to. Hearing a verdict like that would hurt anyone emotionally, and Draco was no exception. He'd been fighting quite some time for his mother, and here stood a Healer telling him she was a good as dead. Hermione didn't see this going anywhere good.

The Healer spent a lot of time considering his response before speaking. "It's hard to say. If her body doesn't respond to the treatments given she could pass just as quickly there as she could here. We might be able to discover the issue, but not solve the problem. It's difficult to understand fully when the reason behind her suffering and illness can't be discovered. It's hard to say Mr. Malfoy, and I will not lie when I say that she might not make it more than a few weeks no matter what is done. "

Draco didn't respond to that, merely pulled away from the Healer and peered out the window, detaching himself from Hermione in the process. It was apparent that he was thinking, but nonetheless she got the feeling that he had no intention of speaking for quite some time. She waited several moments longer before saying a word, turning back to peer at the Healer.

"We will owl St. Mungo's in the morning," she said politely, giving him the best smile she could. He nodded and then beckoned with his head, indicating that they should step away briefly. She did, though she constantly peered back at the blonde in the process.

"Miss Granger- is it all right if I call you that?" he began, looking at the woman nervously. She nodded, and he hesitated before continuing. "If he intends to reposition her to St. Mungo's, I don't recommend waiting more than a few days. As her health slips away so does the possibility of moving her. If she's too fragile, we won't move her and instead people will come here and check on her. Perhaps that it what he wants."

"Perhaps," she muttered, uncertain what exactly Draco was thinking of in that moment. She imagined that he was considering all his options, slowly watching his mother slip away right before his mind's eye. He would likely have nightmares later on that night.

"I would also suggest trying to distract him, keep his spirits up," the man continued, giving her a soft smile. "It's difficult to lose one's parents."

Her composure faltered then, her mind swiveling back to distant, pained memories of her own parents, the people she failed to save. His words poked at the long-forgotten pain in her heart, and it took several seconds to shove the emotion back down. She wouldn't betray her personal pains to this unknown man, someone who was only around to offer up a keen medical eye.

"I imagine so," she whispered, and the man got the hint from her voice that it was probably time to drop the topic. Bidding the brunette goodbye, she watched him make his way back towards the floo he entered through, pulling out the pack of floo powder that Draco handed him upon arriving. He didn't want his mother getting her hands on it in her state.

Wandering back towards the blonde she found him on the floor, legs bent at the knee and drawn to his chest. She sat down beside him, but he didn't look up at her as he stared at the ground.

"It's over," he whispered. "It's all over."

* * *

**A/n:** Yup, kill-joy chapter. Don't forget to leave a review! And also don't forget to sign up to donate for the Leukemia site!


	19. Aftermath: Note

**A/n: **Here's chapter nineteen! Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited.

* * *

She couldn't pull him away from his mother's room. Though he didn't sit by her side every waking moment he wandered around the space, seemingly taking things in. She knew this wasn't the room Narcissa once lived in with Lucius, but nonetheless he seemed to be trying to pick out the details of the space, like he wanted to engrave everything into his mind. Hermione was getting worried about him. He didn't take this news well, as expected. But his lack of talking and even less concern about doing anything alarmed her. It was like he'd gone numb.

The brunette went back to their room hours ago to grab the left-behind potion bottle, the one to help remove the Dark Mark. They hadn't used it yet, but it sat precautiously in her pocket, as though knowing that it would get to be used again. She just didn't want to mention it when he seemed so forlorn. He was troubled enough.

But they would have to take her to St. Mungo's tomorrow, that she was certain of. With her deteriorating health, Draco wouldn't jeopardize her comfort and health just to keep her away from the shame of the media. If she was on her death bed, then there was no point. And he was not oblivious to the fact.

She was contemplating whether or not she should floo Blaise. He might prefer that just she was there, but he knew more about this situation than she did. Maybe it would be better if he was present for things. But then again, another person being involved could just make the situation look worse. Oh, it was so very complicated. Keeping secrets like this never ended easily, and keeping his mother from the public eye would now blow up in Draco's face. She wished it wasn't so, but he was going to get a lot of bad publicity and probably be given a lot of hard time just because people would misinterpret why she was so sick. It wasn't that he was neglectful, but more so because he was too concerned. And that in the end appeared to be his downfall.

Hermione twirled the bottle in her hands as she watched him pace. He said to wait on the potion, but if he didn't decide to go ahead and use it too she was going to make the decision. Narcissa would have to leave in the morning, and the longer they waited the closer dawn got. It was still many hours away, but she didn't put it past Draco to stall until then. He over thought things, a lot, just like her.

Watching Narcissa was a bit alarming. She wasn't having anymore fits, but she stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide but seeing nothing. Hermione wondered if she even noticed that she was staring into nothing, but couldn't be sure if the woman's brain still functioned that way or not. Hermione simply wasn't sure how bad the woman's insanity was after so long, but she was certain that once they confirmed with St. Mungo's, they would get an earful about it tomorrow when she was brought in. The Healer from earlier today seemed very alarmed by her current state, much like the brunette was the first time they encountered each other in the hallway.

"We need to try something Draco," she said at length, not needing to specify what.

He was standing by the closet, holding onto the top as he peered into an array of expensive clothing, charmed so that Narcissa specifically couldn't touch them. Another safety precaution that was sadly needed and her heart went out to him as she noticed the broken expression on his face. He tried quite hard to mask his feelings, especially today.

"What if it makes it worse?"

"There's nothing to lose," she reminded, wandering towards him. Taking his hand off the top of the basic closet, she pulled him away towards the bed. Considering the structure of this plain room and small closet she supposed this was meant to be only a guestroom, but now it held the lady of the house. "Even on your father there were no negative results Draco. This might help."

He didn't argue, and she could tell that he was very worn. He was acting the same way she did with Ron really, from how she got tired from just dealing with the subject to how she seemed to think there was no hope in anything. But there were sublime differences between their experiences. She ended up hating him for what he did, whereas Draco loved his mother even more the more she suffered. It was a painful kind of love, one laced with angst and tears, but he loved her despite the horrible pain inflicted on her, and the insanity that took her. Their situations had their differences, but she felt she understood his pain at least marginally.

And of course, she knew what it was like to lose a parent, both actually.

They were silent as she undid the potion bottle, waiting for Draco to ease his mother's arm into his grip before pouring some of the potion onto her old, barren tattoo. Against her dirty robes and extraordinarily pale complexion it stood out quite drastically. Unlike Lucius there was no battle to get Narcissa to accept the potion on her arm, and instead she didn't even seem to notice it there. Hermione watched her boyfriend for reactions to that, his gave softening as he realized that she didn't even notice it bubbling on her skin.

It disappeared quickly enough and left a grey tattoo behind instead of a black. Frustrated, Draco set his mother's frail arm down quickly before cursing, spinning away angrily. She sighed, replacing the vial in her pocket, now almost empty.

"It's not doing enough!"

"It did the exact same thing that it did to your father's," she reminded, watching the man as he paced. "Their tattoos are older, darker and much more sinister. It will take more doses to remove theirs than it did yours, and it should be expected."

"Mine was half gone after the first," he grumbled, clenching and unclenching his hands. "It's hopeless."

"Not necessary," she responded, tapping her lip. "I estimate that it will take about five doses to remove it entirely, perhaps four. I think we could administer all of those before morning."

"Doesn't that qualify as overdosing?"

She shook her head. "It's not an upper, or anything like that. It doesn't even go inside your body. I would say that a few hours should be allotted between doses to let her body settle since we are stripping things out of her, but I think there's a possibility that we could get it done before we have to contact St. Mungo's in the morning."

"You actually think that's safe?"

"I wouldn't suggest it if it wasn't," she replied hotly, rolling her eyes. "I've already made some pre-batches, since we have discussed this before, so there's certainly enough to try that four more times tonight that is if you're up for it."

He was nodding before she even finished speaking. "If you think it's going to help, then of course, of course we're going to try!"

"I thought you would say that," she said, fingering the collar of her shirt. "But remember, Draco, we don't know if this will really help yet or not. So please, don't put all your hopes in this silly potion. It might not help as much as we think."

The blonde nodded, wandering towards her. He reached up and softly planted his hands on her cheeks, kissing her gently. She put her hands on his chest, resting them there. The kiss didn't last more than a few seconds, but she did thoroughly enjoy it.

"I have to hope on something," he whispered, staring into her brown eyes. "If this fails, I'll find something new to hope on." Hermione nodded, but said nothing in return to that. "Shall we go and get the potions now?"

"Yes," she agreed, but his eyes jumped back to his mother briefly before looking back to her, reaching down to grab her hand. She pulled away. "You stay here."

"I-"

"It's obvious you want to," she cut in, smiling softly. "I'll just go grab them and I'll be right back, okay?"

Nodding, he kissed her cheek. "Okay."

* * *

Her trip back to the bedroom was supposed to be speedy, but she had to slow down when she noticed an owl in the window. Thinking it was a letter from St. Mungo's she bounded over there, but quickly discovered that it lacked the Healer insignia. She nearly left it until she remembered that tomorrow would be a hectic day, and both of them probably wouldn't be back to read it. Taking the letter she handed the bird some food and shooed it away, tearing the letter open as she grabbed the potion vials. Thank Merlin she made some earlier on or this plan wouldn't work at all considering how long it took.

Her eyebrows shot up as she realized what the letter entailed.

_Hermione~_

_I know, you don't really care to hear from me, big surprise. If it makes you feel better I've sent this same letter to Harry as well, so it's not specifically targeted at you. _

_Ron's going to St. Mungo's. I guess he and Lavender tried to have a slight, monitored visit outside of the holding cells and somebody jumped him. I don't really know the whole story. I just know that he's going to be there at least for the next four days. Then he's going back on trial and being persecuted like it never happened._

_Lavender owled me in a frenzy. That's the only reason I know this. But I've heard that no one is leaning in his favor. Did you know that Brown is being tried against too for my note? I suppose it's your handiwork that alerted the courts of that mishap. I appreciate that you kept my name out of it. _

_You probably don't care about this, but I thought it might brighten your day. If nothing else he's suffering like you used to when you were together. _

_Hope your well._

_~Seamus_

She cocked an eyebrow, groaning. If Ron was at St. Mungo's for the next four days then he'd be there tomorrow when she was. The last thing she wanted to do was see him. But why two alleged people being tried in court were allowed to visit together at all escaped her. Maybe it was a misinterpretation of something, which she was more than willing to believe.

And on top of Ron, if Seamus owled Harry then he was likely to go there with his wife. She knew that Harry and Ginny were quite unhappy with Ron's behavior before, and Ginny occasionally mentioned in her letters that she wouldn't mind screaming some more sense into his head. So if Ron was there, they might be there , and although they knew about her standing with Malfoy she didn't really think that she wanted to hold a conversation with them if she was there to support Draco during this time with his mother. But it was unlikely that they would let her slip away without speaking to them for a bit, since she took forever to respond to their owls those days.

Things just got more complicated. She cursed Ron, wishing he was just in Azkaban already. Things would be so much easier if that were the case.

Besides, she didn't think criminals should be anywhere near other people. If he was hurt then yes he might deserve the medical attention, but it seemed stupid to put him in a place full of sick people. After all, criminals were criminals because they did something illegal or extremely dangerous, right?

She was going to give herself a headache if she kept thinking about that. Tossing the letter to the side she turned around and marched out of the room, everything she needed already in hand. She had a long night ahead of her and if she got distracted by something like that then she was never going to get anywhere. She would just try to ignore it until she actually had to deal with the reality of that letter. Maybe she wouldn't run into Ron at all while at St. Mungo's- since he probably wasn't permitted to walk around- and she wouldn't have to deal with this. She could just pretend he was completely out of her life, burn the letter and wait to see what the verdict was printed in the headlines the day following his trial. She was just fine doing that.

But wandering back towards Draco's mother's room, she got a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. She feared it wouldn't be that easy.

* * *

**A/n:** Focused on two things here! Go ahead and leave a review darlings and keep them coming!

You can still donate to the Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society by following the link on my profile! Help those who need it and read some awesome stories by some really great writers in the HP, Twilight and Hunger Games genres!


	20. Retrospect: Detour

**A/n:** Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! Not yet edited.

"I heard a rumor that Potter won't be back for months. Lockhart did a number on his frail little arm, didn't he?"

Hermione looked up from her books, disgusted to see that the blonde prat in front of her. Back for their second year a school, she'd half-hoped that he would mature over the summer. That was obviously a frightful idea, considering that he seemed far more annoying than the previous year. Now that he was on the Quidditch team he got on Harry's nerves more than before, and she got to hear about the dilemma with Ron.

"Lockhart is incompetent," she seethed, her prior impression of the man now ruined by that silly stint at the Quidditch pitch. Turning someone's arm into Jell-O was a pretty big mistake, and she wished he would stop with his attempts to be admired at Hogwarts. Merlin, he had enough fan girls, her included until recently. "Are you hoping that I'll tell you that Harry can't play so that Slytherin will have an actual chance of winning?"

"Slytherin _will _in," he snapped, stepping forward. They were outside near the lake, the overcast sky keeping most students inside. If it did rain, Hermione would just run inside. She needed some fresh air as she pondered how to help Harry. "We were always going to win, even before he was injured. This just insures that Gryffindor will come in last."

"Did you come over here to bother me with that point?" Hermione asked, shutting her book. Knowing Malfoy, this was going to take a while.

"I came by to see if it's really true. I can't wait to taunt him!"

"And you think that I will tell you the truth?"

"Of course Granger," he sneered, getting in her face. "You are a goody-two-shoes after all. It's not like you can lie. It would go against your _morals_."

"I'll have you know Malfoy-"

A crack of thunder interrupted what she was going to say, briefly deathening the pair as Malfoy reached up to cover his earns. The crack of lightning lit up the sky, illuminating their surroundings. She hugged her book to her chest, already seeing how close the storm ought to be.

"We need to go inside," she spat, turning to hurry back in that direction. He followed, but only a moment later decided to hop in front of her instead.

"I want an answer Granger."

"Oh Merlin, what do you want? I know we don't like each other Malfoy, but can't you wait until we get inside? It's going to start raining any moment!"

He shook his head, crossing his arms. "Tell me why."

"Excuse me? What are you going on about now?"

"Tell me why you tried to compare our blood last year."

She frowned, trying to figure out what exactly he was talking about. Blood, when did the talk about blood? Then it hit her, and she clutched the book to her chest tighter as she recalled that dreadful conversation.

_"You're bloods dirty."_

_"No it's not. It's red like everyone else's."_

_Draco scoffed, seemingly entertained by that theory. "Oh, keep thinking that Granger. Keep thinking that."_

_"It is Malfoy, you can't have different colored blood. It doesn't work."_

_"You really don't know anything."_

_"I'm serious! Blood is red for every person, even slimy snakes like you. Or blood is the same-"_

_"Don't say that!" he cried, tightening his hands. "Don't ever, ever compare our blood, got it, Granger. We are not the same people, or practically the same race! Your blood is dirty understand? No one wants someone with dirty blood."_

_"It's the same," she groaned, moving to walk ahead of him in hopes that they could proceed. Luckily he decided to start walking too, and not two feet ahead they caught sight of Fang again. Their path had more tree branches up above than the path Harry and Ron took, so the moonlight didn't help as much. "It will always be the same." _

"This nonsense again? Malfoy, first of all you have ridiculously bad timing with your questions, and second of all I think it should be obvious. I say what I do because no one is going to belittle me just because of my heritage. I'm proud of whom I am, and I don't ask for other's approval. I won't let s git like you make me feel bad."

The rain started falling, and he arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yes really," she snapped, the rain picking up very quickly. "Now move! I want to get inside!"

He chuckled, and she knew just from the sound of it that she wouldn't like what was coming next. Without saying a word to her he shoved her backwards, hard, and watched the girl stumble on the slope they stood upon, falling into the mud. He laughed as it splashed around her in the rain, coating her back.

"There you are Granger, no more lies! Now your outside matches your inside!" He turned away still laughing as she sat up, her head dropped as he jogged away. Her book was dirty and being soaked by the rain, and she'd have to have a talk with the librarian immediately about what happened. She wiped a smudge of mud from her cheek.

He was awful really, simply awful. Cruel in every aspect, she wondered what made someone become such a bully. Picking herself up off the ground, she reminded her twelve-year old self that he wasn't worth crying over. He was a bully, a prat, and he liked nothing more than to make people feel bad about themselves. Getting up, she brushed all the mud off that she could before using her wand to remove the rest, the rain still falling down on her in bucketful's. She stared at the ground, trying to keep her head up.

_He does it to get under your skin, so don't let it! Nothing Malfoy says is ever real! He just has confidence issues and tries to feel better by belittling others. I shouldn't ever listen to a word he says._

Lifting her head, she marched back towards the doors to Hogwarts with confidence, determined to not let him get the best of her. He probably went out there to pick on her to begin with, never really needing to speak about Harry.

He was such a prat. She hated him.

* * *

After Malfoy dueled Harry in front of the entire Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Hermione made sure that he slipped on the way out the door with his arrogant swagger, fell, and got snickered at. That would show him not to mess with her! And she was sure that he realized who was at fault for that particularly slippery part of the floor, but Hermione didn't hang around to see his scowl. She grinned as the prat got laughed off before hurrying off after her friends, having only needed to hang back for those few extra moments.

Draco hated her, he really did. Potter might be the bane of his existence, but Granger was the thorn in his side. Those two got on his last nerve.

On the plus side, his father was pleased to hear that Potter got his arm turned to Jell-O, and on the down side he was infuriated that his appendage could be fixed.

To make things worse, his mother owled him that morning to tell him that she wanted him to go over to Blaise's during the holiday. She didn't specify why just that arrangements were already made. Blaise was psyched, but he wasn't so sure on the idea. Why wouldn't his mother want him there for Christmas?

Confused, he asked his father about it in a response to a different letter. Surely his parents already discussed this at length, right? Besides, ever since he heard his mother begging that fateful night when he was nine Draco got scared knowing that she was home alone with him for so long out of the year, and adding on two extra weeks didn't sound good to him. He wanted to be there for her.

Despite everything, Draco still wanted to please his father. He didn't quite know what he did during the summer to make his father raise his hand to him, but he never wanted it to happen again. It was his own fault, he was sure, but he couldn't recall anything super bad he'd done. Maybe if he did a lot of good things that year to please his father and downgrade Potter it would never happen again. He wanted to make his father proud, not angry.

But his mother's screams still echoed in his mind at night. He couldn't get them out of his head, and couldn't and wouldn't figure out their meaning. He didn't quite want to know the answer to that, but at the same time he knew he needed to.

So when a letter from his father arrived a few days after the one from his mother, Draco wasn't too excited about the contents in response to his question.

_Draco~_

_Yes, you can go to the Zabini's for Christmas. But you are not under any circumstances permitted home this year. I have something's to deal with concerning your mother. We'll see you at Spring Break._

_~Lucius_

He didn't pay too much attention to how the letter was addressed or how short it was just time around, just how potent his father made it that he wasn't allowed to go to the Manor. He'd never been banned from his home before, and this was an entirely new thing. He didn't really know what to make of it.

But as time wore on, he was getting more and more concerned with his father. He'd never tell anyone, but sometimes he wasn't quite sure what the man's motive really was. And his need to keep him away at Christmas just enlarged the fact. Daddy dearest was keeping something, and he sincerely wanted to know what was happening.

Screw Granger, her friends, and the entire school. Even his parents. He might go vacation at Blaise's for a bit, but he would have to take a quick visit to his home. Something was astray, and he wanted to know what.

* * *

The next time Hermione really saw Draco was after Christmas break on the train back to school. His usual goons and Slytherin friends weren't around, and he was in a compartment alone. She only noticed him because although the doors and windows were shut and covered, the window inside appeared to be open and blew the curtain. She spotted him while on her way to the bathroom, and wondered what was up.

On the way back she noticed that he was crying. Now _that_ wasn't normal. She'd never seen the prat cry, but then, she'd never really seen him alone either. Hesitating, she knocked on the compartment door, wondering how stupid of an idea this was.

He didn't respond to her knock, and she almost turned away. So what if he was crying? He probably deserved it. Yet she couldn't help the curiosity that was picking at her mind. Again she knocked.

"Go away."

She didn't dare say anything; for fear that he might recognize her voice. Knocking a third and then fourth time, he finally answered, silver orbs glaring out at her as he ripped the door open.

"What do you want Granger?"

Slightly surprised, she said nothing at first, having not expected that he would actually open up. "Malfoy, what are you doing all alone?"

"Does it matter to you?" he asked, moving to shut the door but she caught the frame. "Granger, I don't care what you want to say so get lost. I have better things to do than converse with the likes of you."

"Someone's grouchy," she commented, eyeing him. "You just seem-"

"I don't seem anything!" he retorted, covering his fingers with his robe so he could pull her hand out of his way. "Now scram!" He slammed the door shut again, leaving her in the hallway. She frowned, annoyed that he had to be such a prat even then. Oh well, it was his loss not hers. She was just trying to be a decent human being.

Inside the compartment he slumped against the door. She had to always put her nose into things, asking questions that he couldn't answer. But if he didn't even want to handle his friends that day, why would he handle her?

He stared down at the forming bruises on his wrist, sighing. He would still have to handle those before the train reached its destination. Taking a detour to his home during winter break didn't turn out to be the best idea after all.

* * *

**A/n: **I'm having a hard time getting a muse. I know that this is later than usual and the chapter is nothing special, but I'll try to have the next one up soon. Sorry guys, but starting school in a few weeks, preparing, and having way too many hours at work does that to a person. Hope you enjoyed anyways! Send a review this way!

Also, feel free to check out my new stories Footsteps and The Otherside of Life. I'm not sure if the Life one is continuing yet or not. Enjoy!


	21. Aftermath Ron

**A/n:** A new chapter lovelies! Thanks to my awesome beta **loveinthemaddness!** **Not yet edited! I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter though :/ It seems a bit… detached.

Watching Draco lose his cool while they escorted his mother to St. Mungo's was hard. He didn't break often but when he did she knew what was happening had a strong impact on him. And throughout the time it took to transport her there, he never let of Hermione's hand, gripping it as the skin turned very white. When he finally eased up she couldn't feel it anymore.

But Narcissa was at St. Mungo's, and that was the good thing. She survived the transportation, and it didn't appear to have any negative effects on the woman, and Hermione was thankful for that. Draco might lose his mind otherwise. But he was so very close to that already.

They'd dosed her arm enough to actually remove the tattoo entirely. Yet so far, there seemed to be no differences in her health. And he'd so been hoping that this would help her. But Narcissa remained dying, her body placed in a care facility that only existed for those who were not expected to leave St Mungo's alive again. Oh, it broke Draco's heart, but he didn't mutter a word about the placement. He was too focused on his mother, who lay decrepit on a hospital bed, and had yet to even open her eyes. If Hermione didn't look at the spells monitoring her heart or the gentle rise and fall of Narcissa's chest, she might just assume that the woman was already dead. But no, some part of her held onto life, and she knew the woman's son was trying to hold onto that part too. It was simply dreadful to watch.

After only being there for a few hours, Hermione decided she needed a break from the room. She did what she could to provide comfort for Draco about his mother, but he didn't seem to even listen to her that day. He just stared down at her face, rubbing her hand softly. He hadn't said anything to her in hours. Suffocated by the silence and dread lingering in the room he excused herself, needing to step outside for a bit.

Wandering around St. Mungo's really didn't brighten her mood too much, for this area truly wasn't a happy place. The people in this section were stationed simply because they're lives were basically over, whatever sickness that befell them taking over their lives and ending them before it was truly time. But she trudged on, daringly wandering further into St. Mungo's, looking for a way to calm her jittery nerves before returning to comfort Draco.

Her biggest fear was that she'd see Ron.

The greatest surprise would be seeing Lavender.

The best thing would be to see Harry and Ginny. They might be around to speak to that pathetic excuse for a man that Ginny had for a brother, since he technically was there. News of Draco's mother staying there would hit papers tomorrow since some nosy reporters spotted them earlier. It couldn't be helped really, and she sincerely hoped Draco didn't flip when he saw the articles. They were bound to appear at some point, and he needed to understand that. He couldn't just break into a fit of rage over it, not when it was best that things got out now. Now there would be time for the magical community to hear the news and accept it, instead of discovering the unprecedented death after it happened. Considering how many people out there still didn't like Draco, some dolt may have tried to turn it into murder just to get him sent to Azkaban. She wouldn't put it past one of the multiple idiots out there.

Now everyone would know that it was a sickness, because hospital employees couldn't reveal anything about patients without being immediately terminated. Landing a spot in the prestigious hospital was hard, and not a single worker there would jeopardize their position. It would be announced as a sickness, and possibly after Narcissa died- not that Hermione was dead-set on the fact- something would be revealed about the matter. But for now, other than her relocation there, nothing would be revealed. The secrets could remain intact a while longer.

She wished the same pleasantries were extended her way in her trial with Ron. No one seemed to give a damn then about privacy, something she found incredibly annoying. Sure, her situation was juicy gossip and scandalous mishaps between a supposedly perfect couple, but still! She was human, and she deserved some privacy like anyone else. Only, it was too late to bitch about that anymore. The case was over.

Hermione didn't consider the retrial a threat anymore. There was no way they would lose, because to be honest, Ron did not stand a chance.

Turning another corner her eyes widened and she stopped in her tracks, staring down at the figure in the hall. He was leaning against the wall, seemingly rubbing his face. Her mood brightened as soon as she saw him.

"Harry!" He looked up at the sound, unable to miss the woman rocketing towards him. Already expecting to be jumped, he held out his arms, catching his longtime friend as she jumped into his body. "It's so good to see you!"

"Likewise," he agreed, hugging her tight. They remained that way for a moment before setting her down. "You look… well actually. Great even."

She grinned. "Living at the Manor has actually been good for me."

"Yes," he replied, surveying her. "Who would've thought that staying in our former enemies den would be the best cure for you after everything."

Rolling her eyes, she hit him lightly on the shoulder. "You still seem surprised by that."

"I still am," Harry agreed, giving her a soft grin. She really did look well, despite the bags under her eyes. Her skin had a healthy glow about it, and though she seemed stressed her eyes held a sort of fire he hadn't seen in her in so long. She appeared alive again. "You look really good."

"I feel good!"

"Brilliant," he replied, smiling. He paused, seemingly realizing where they were. "Why don't we continue this conversation someplace else?"

Her eyes danced to the room across the hall from where he was standing, and realized that the door had a warning sign on it. No one was supposed to answer without being accompanied by either an Auror or highly skilled medic. Immediately, she realized it was Ron's room and squared her shoulders.

"I'm fine right here," she said stiffly, having ignored the door until now. She didn't have to think very hard to figure out why Harry would be at St. Mungo's. It wasn't like he'd come to see Draco's mother or anything. Besides, he couldn't have known about that yet.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, leaning back against the wall again. He wasn't as relaxed this time, and his posture remained stiff. "I can't imagine that you would want to visit with Ron."

She made a face. "Hardly. I'm here… well I'm here with Draco."

"Did something happen?" Harry asked, eyeing her. Like the concerned brother he'd always been, he was checking up on her to make sure there was no damage. She smiled at his concern.

"Not with me," she assured, shaking her head. Looking at Harry, she contemplated whether or not it was her place to say anything on the matter, but decided that it couldn't be too big of a deal. He'd read about it in the papers tomorrow anyway. "We're here with his mother."

Hearing that it wasn't about Lucius either seemed to calm the man down quite a bit. "Oh, I'm sorry. What happened to her?"

"She's sick," Hermione replied, keeping things vague. "We were worried about her condition, so we brought her here."

"So his parents still live in the Manor?" Harry asked, dancing around his initial point. "Both of them?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes Harry, both of them. So I have seen Draco's father several times."

"And he's okay with this?" the raven-haired boy asked, eyes getting larger. "Even after your history with Lucius?!"

"Calm down," she said, holding up her hands. "First of all, you have to remember that my past with Draco isn't a rainbow either, and that time did learn to mend things between us."

"I think Ron added to that," he pointed out, eyeing his friend. "If he didn't… if he wasn't such a bastard you wouldn't have felt betrayed, used, or scared. And if I wasn't his best mate- well, his _former_ best mate- then you wouldn't have felt compelled to avoid me and go to Malfoy in the first place. He did in a way help push all this together."

Hermione smiled at that, finding it quite funny that her husband, the man who wanted nothing more than to keep her tied to him, was indeed the reason she leaned towards Draco and grew close to him. In many ways, he was the reason she was with the blonde now. Maybe she'd have to thank the bastard for that.

"I know Harry, but Lucius isn't going to hurt me. Draco had his parents warded off, his father due to the danger factor, and I've only actually seen him a handful of times, and our conversations have been decent even less than that. Don't worry, he doesn't trust his father either. If he had it his way I'd probably never see him at all."

"For once I agree with Malfoy on something," the man muttered.

She placed her hands on her hips. "I know you don't like him Harry, but I am capable of handling myself. I let my willpower fall through when I was with Ron, and I got caught up in a loveless relationship that was more controlling than endearing. I won't let anyone step on me again, and certainly not the liked of a decrepit man. I can handle myself Harry, and although you would rather that I stayed away from him all-together, I'm afraid that's something I simply can't do. I'm helping Draco out after everything he did for me, and his father comes along with the package."

Harry sighed, eyeing his friend before he enveloped her in a hug once more, smashing her into his body. "Just be careful," he whispered as she wrapped her arms around him as well. "I don't want to see you hurt again."

"I won't be," she said airy, rolling her eyes. He would always try to protect her, wouldn't he, especially after Ron's betrayal. Pulling back, she eyed him. "And you're just here to stand in the hall?"

"No," he replied, rubbing his eyes again, "Ginny wanted to come. When she heard Ron would be here she practically forced her way in here so she could yell at him some more. She brought George and Bill along even to back her up, but I think they're more afraid of her than anything. She's been in a vengeful mood towards Ron since she found out what he did, just like everyone else. But she has it out for him, and I think her brothers are terrified that she might rip him a new one. They came along mostly to just please her, but I don't think they actually have any intent to talk. They don't really have anything left to say to him."

"And you?" she asked, genuinely curious. He only shrugged.

"I said what I wanted to before the trial ended. I have nothing left to say to him."

She titled her head to the side. "But you were once best friends."

"Yes," he agreed, staring at her, "And then I lost respect for him. We've been over this before Hermione; what he did I can't forgive him for. It's disgusting how he treated you, and it's unforgiveable that I didn't even notice." He gripped her shoulder. "And I'm sorry for that."

"It's okay," she said, shaking her head, "I forgave you a long time ago."

A shuffling in the room caught their attention and the pair looked up, surveying the door. Inside there sounded like there was a shuffle, and a moment later the door was thrown open to reveal a very red looking Ron. And boy, he certainly did look beat up. Hermione tried to suppress a grin at that, only thinking that he'd gotten what he deserved.

"Hermione!" he cried, moving to reach her. Harry stepped in front of her at the same time that Bill and George appeared at each of his sides, grabbing an arm. An alarm went off, and she realized it was to probably alert the staff that he was trying to be a threat, even if he probably couldn't do it in the position he was currently in. She had three angry, protective males on her side, holding the prat back, and an exuberant red-haired girl that would kill him in his sleep if he tried to even touch her. She could indeed see Ginny peeking over her brother's shoulders to see the commotion. She was perfectly safe.

But in her eyes, it didn't really matter that there were so many people, because she didn't fear him anymore.

"Ron, control yourself," she said, waving her hand. Harry actually glanced over his shoulder at the confidence he heard in her voice. "Now you're just making a fool of yourself."

Everyone seemed to pause, surprised that she wasn't terrified. If she was honest, she was quite surprised as well. She wanted to show him that she wasn't afraid, but she didn't think she would sound so confident about it. It was quite nice actually.

"Hermione," he said, staring at her with wide eyes. "What the hell?"

"Oh Ron let's not go down this road again. You got yourself stuck her, and you're a complete idiot to think that for a moment I would even come here for you. Before you say something stupid, let me be honest. I'm here with Draco, supporting him. It's only by chance that I even crossed paths with you."

"Lies," he spat, looking at his ex-wife over his former best friends shoulder. "I heard you-"

"Speaking to Harry," she interrupted, rolling her eyes. "I have no intention to waste even a second of my time on you."

"Hermione-"

"I don't intend to waste my breath on you Ron," she retorted, already turning from the scene, "I've wasted enough on you."

The on-site Aurors arrived, looking uncomfortable as they realized who was there. Ron started screaming something but she zoned him out, walking away. After all the time spent fussing over Ron, she refused to be drawn down that path.

She ended up running away from him, afraid of reacting to something he said. She was finished with him, but that didn't mean he couldn't rile her up. And although she wouldn't mind screaming some sense into his densely thick skull, she didn't want to speak with him at all if it could be helped. He caused her enough pain, and in reality she knew it would bother him more if she outright ignored him than retaliated against him.

So Hermione didn't stay. She ran out on him, vanishing the issue from her mind. Technically she never went to see him, and vanished any ill feelings on the matter. She was here for Draco, to focus and help Draco, not to get caught up in old drama. And she assumed that's what Ron wanted, for her to get caught up again. She turned him in and started the ordeal, and she imagined he would like nothing more than to hurt her.

At the door to Narcissa's room, she composed herself. Ron slipped into the back of her mind, a nuisance more than a problem. He would never get close to her again, and she didn't need any reassurance on that. She knew it was true.

Stepping into the room, she noted that Draco didn't even look up. He was too entranced with his mother, repressing sobs as he looked on at spacy eyes. Coming up being him she rested her hands on his shoulders, squeezing them comfortably. The blonde glanced up briefly, smiling thankfully at her. She returned the gesture.

He was the reason she was there, not Ron. He pulled her out of her depression at her lowest point, and she would do the same for him.

**A/n:** Yes, we all hate Ron. I've twined him in here at certain points, but he isn't a main point here. So there won't be much more insight on him, just a brief look at how the trial goes at some point. I wanted to mention him, but not focus on him. Next chapter we'll learn more about Narcissa's condition, the Dark Mark, and maybe see some more of Lucius. Depends how much fits in the chapter :D Leave a review?


	22. Aftermath: Idea

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited!

* * *

The first few days at the hospital were agonizingly difficult on Draco. He only left at night when Hermione was able to pull him away, returning to the Manor to sleep for a few scarce hours before disappearing back to St. Mungo's before Hermione could drag herself out of bed that following day. He created a routine for himself, one which did nothing to help him. The bags under his eyes proved that he didn't sleep well and his snappy attitude just supported the argument. She didn't let him take any pepper-up potion at the Manor, and hid the potion and its ingredients away entirely, and St. Mungo's had a strict rule about procession of anything of the sort within its boundaries. He was running solely off his own fuel, and she knew there wasn't too much of that. With his lack of appetite and sleep, she knew he would crash before the week was out, even if he didn't want to admit to it.

Narcissa's stay at St. Mungo's made headlines the first day after she was admitted, nosy patrons having been the reason behind such an early unveiling. The reporters got everything they needed to for the article from people who watched the woman arrive. Apparently everyone was a gossip these days.

The article tore him apart. Although Draco knew since the moment the call-in Healer told him his mother's fate he'd accepted the fact that she couldn't comfortably remain hidden away from prying eyes, but to have her name slandered and ridiculed across a newspaper while she lay in bed dying broke his composure. He cried that very morning, alarming the nurse who came to check on his mother. Hermione did all she could, but even her comfort didn't make him feel better. He wouldn't tolerate that kind of disrespect.

Later on the same day he went on a revenge trip and wanted to go burn down the section of the Ministry where the papers were produced. It took quite a bit of time to calm him down, but eventually she convinced him that doing something like that probably wouldn't help matters at all.

By that evening, she'd gotten a letter from Harry, who told her that he'd personally been offended by the article posted and went down with Ginny and George to have a little chat with the publicist. Needless to assay that after a conversation with _the_ Harry Potter who was personally upset with an article posted, a letter was sent attached to Harry's own stating that until information was released to the press from Draco there would be no further articles. Not only was Draco stunned, but Hermione was mildly surprised as well. After everything Draco did for her just a few months prior she wasn't surprised that Harry would go to such extents to help Malfoy at his darkest hour. After all, Draco saved her, and Hermione happened to be one of Harry's favorite people. Given his pure heart, there was no reason to think he wouldn't try to return the favor.

Currently they sat beside his mother, Draco's arms crossed over his chest instead of gripping her hand today. It'd been a few days since Harry's letter arrived, and since then there hadn't really been any good news. Narcissa continued to spiral downhill.

"She should be getting better," he whispered at one point, and Hermione reached over to rub his arm. "We got rid of the Dark Mark, we took away the darkness poisoning her. Why didn't it help?"

"We knew it wasn't 100% a sure-fire way to help," Hermione said gently, looking back at her boyfriend. His voice sounded so broken and flat that it hurt her heart. He tried so hard to help Narcissa, and yet nothing changed. She was still very ill and very much non-responsive to any of the other treatments given to her. There was little hope that anything else would help her get better, but Hermione didn't dare say that to him. He was on the edge already, and she didn't want to push him over.

"But it should do something!" he cried hoarsely. "It even diluted my father's tattoo, and he felt a slight difference. He has more poison inside of him than my mother ever did."

"I know Draco," the brunette said, patting his thigh. "It doesn't make much sense."

"It doesn't make _any_ sense," he corrected, looking at her desperately. "What am I doing wrong? What else can I do Hermione!?"

She reached out and rubbed his cheekbones, attempting to relax the tense muscles in his face. "Breathe first," she said, waiting until he'd calmed down a bit before saying anything. "There are few options left Draco."

"I know," he spat, standing up. The sharp noise of his chair scratching the tile floor should've bothered his mother's ears, but she continued to remain oblivious, eyes dancing back and forth between the ceiling and walls, completely ignoring the both of them. "But there has to be something we're overlooking!"

Hermione watched him storm around for several minutes, used to his normal venting time. He went off like this at least once a day, usually around two. She was fully prepared to sit back and let him get his anger out before she tried to console him. He simply had too much to handle and the stresses of life were beginning to get to him.

Today he continued to rant for an unusually long amount of time, and eventually she had to stop him. Stepping into his path she grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to kiss her. He protested for a moment, worked up from his rant, but he gave into her soft lips after a short struggle, softly hugging her to him.

"You're unusually worked up today," she muttered, rubbing his back. He sighed, thanking the woman internally that she was so bloody patient.

"It's just beginning to wear on me," he admitted, looking away from her as he pulled away. She nodded understandably, reaching out to grip his hand. "I'm worried."

"Anyone would be," she assured him, pecking him on the cheek again. "But… there are still a few revenues we haven't explored yet Draco."

"Like what?" he asked hopefully, and her heart fractured at the look in his eyes. "You don't look too confident in whatever is going through your mind Hermione."

"Oh, I'm confident in the idea," she corrected, pulling away to brush her hair back, "Just not in how you're going to interpret it."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Go on."

Hermione hesitated a moment longer before speaking. "Well… we tried the potion out on your father first… and it worked really well…"

"Go on."

"And he seems pretty broken and hurt beneath the surface… like you were- are, like your mother is… but he's somehow kept his composure…"

"What are you getting at?" Draco asked, dread filling his voice. She took a breath, deciding she couldn't stall anymore.

"Did your parents get their tattoos around the same time?"

"No, my father is a year older than my mother. They had an arranged marriage, so when father got his in seventh year it was expected that she would as well. Soon as her birthday that year hit they went out together with some other followers and she got her tattoo. There's more than a years' worth of time between when they got them."

Hermione nodded, placing a finger to her lips. "And your father was with her the entire time during the time she was getting it?"

"How should I know?" he asked with a frown, "I wasn't born. I know that I was conceived that night thanks to my charming father, but that's all."

"Lovely," she muttered, shuddering at the image. "Draco, you do know that people react to different spells differently, right?"

"Of course."

"So maybe your mother had a bad reaction to the tattoo," she continued, indicating towards the unconscious woman. "If she isn't adapting to the potion like everyone else did, then perhaps there's a variation there within her that wasn't there for everyone else. It's worked on four other people, and she is the first to have a problem accepting it."

"You think she's having a bad reaction to a tattoo that was on her arm for more than a decade _now_?" the blonde asked, sounding not only stumped but frustrated. "That doesn't make sense!"

"No," Hermione corrected, "Don't you see? If she had a reaction, it would've shown up years ago, perhaps even when she first got the tattoo. You've experienced it firsthand Draco; being interjected by a dark force that contaminates your body through a tattoo has to be unnerving. Think about it this way, okay? Some people can tolerate the Crucio curse without even screaming, whereas others can hardly handle a light hit without roaring in pain."

"That's different though. You build a tolerance towards curses like that, but the Dark Mark has been placed on hundreds of witches and wizards. She wouldn't be the only one to have a bad reaction."

Her expression sank a bit. "That's a good point but… I think I might still be on the right track. It has to be internal, right?"

"Maybe?"

"I think it is," she muttered, beginning to pace in his place. Draco stepped back, allowing the woman to do her thing. She seemed to be on a roll, and he wasn't about to stop her.

"Maybe it's a background thing," she muttered. "I read something somewhere ages ago that a person has to have a dark enough heart to take the Dark Mark. Maybe she was… too pure?"

"Granger, my mother once harbored the same sinister thoughts that my father does. I don't think purity is the problem here. I'd sooner be too pure." He didn't mention that his mother was once abused by Lucius, and coward away from him. Maybe she wasn't too pure, but too cowardly. She'd never stood up to her husband once in her life.

"No," she corrected, pointing a finger at him as she turned to face him. "You wanted your father's attention, and did everything you could to seem pure evil in his eyes. Maybe that wasn't how you truly felt, but it's the show you put on. You tried your hardest to convince everyone that you wanted to be a Death Eater, but on the inside you were scared."

He looked peeved at the reminder. "Are you going someplace with this, or shall we continue to speak in circles?"

"I think talking to your father about all of this will help," she said cutting right to the chase. Before he could protest, she continued on, "Her sisters are both dead, and her parents have been gone for years. Aside from you Draco, you're father knows her the best, perhaps even better than Blaise's mother can hope to know her. Considering all of our questions, he's probably the best person to consult."

"You want me to-"

"No," she corrected before he could finish speaking. "I don't want you doing anything with this. Draco, I know you don't want to leave her side, and that's perfectly fine. I don't really need help with what I'm going to do."

His eyes flashed. "And what is that?"

"I'm going to speak to your father."

He looked alarmed, and before she could even blink he was in front of her, gripping her arms. "No! You can't-"

"Don't start with that _can't_ nonsense. I know you don't like me near him, but I can handle myself, really. I mean, even if the Weasley's hadn't been there to control Ron the other day I could've-"

"What!?" he boomed, eyes widening. She felt her jaw drop, having forgotten that she hadn't mentioned this to him yet. With everything else that went on, mentioning Ron and their brief encounter slipped her mind.

"Calm down," she snapped, watching his eyes widen. She wouldn't let him overpower her in this conversation, not when she knew he was edging towards his protective, angry side. "Nothing happened, okay? I was wandering around St. Mungo's that first day to get some air and I ended up finding Harry. We chatted briefly and then Ron tried to burst out and speak to me, but his brothers had him by the arms. I didn't even really let him say that much to me. After all this time there wasn't anything to say. Basically, I told him he could fuck off. He ruined everything for himself, and just put me in a better position in life."

Draco un-fisted his hands, looking at the girl before him. Moving carefully he got close to her, gently cupping her face. "And you're alright? Seeing him, I mean… it didn't bring back those awful memories for you, did it?"

Smiling softly she placed her hands over his. "Quite the opposite. It was empowering to know that he had no control, to know that he landed himself here swollen and beat up due to his own stupid actions. I actually didn't pity him, nor did I feel afraid. I think for the first time ever Draco, it didn't remind me of our past. I saw him as a twisted person, but not someone who did violent things to me. The memories actually didn't attack me."

He smiled, a true smile, and it touched her heart. "That's great news."

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "And if I can stand up to the one and only person I've ever backed down from, then I should be able to handle your father, someone I fought face-to-face with on more than one occasion. Before you say anything else, I know it's not ideal to send me off alone to handle him; but really, you should be here with your mother. There's two of us, and we can handle being in two separate places for a few hours."

"But-"

"I'll be fine," she said again, caressing his cheek. "Just trust me, okay? I've been alone with him before in a room, and I've come out just fine. He has nothing on me."

Draco stared into her eyes, looking for a tell-tale sign that she was lying. But the determination that shined back through her iris' was surprising, and he couldn't deny that she was very good at combat as well as interrogation. But really, it didn't matter to him how fabulous she was at battling, not when he knew his father's dark past.

If Lucius hurt her, he'd have to end his father. The man was a bastard for years, and Draco couldn't allow him to get away with anything more. Currently he was trying to forget the past, but it was hard. He still saw flashes of his father in his vision of a sadistic, controlling arsehole.

But his mother and Hermione were very different people, and deep down he knew that she had the upper hand no matter what his father's state of mind was. She was the level-headed fighter, whereas Lucius was all talk and no aim. She could handle herself, but he didn't know if he wanted her doing that. He wasn't sure he could chance it.

A vision of the past ghosted across his vision as he glanced back at Narcissa, but he shook the image away. He couldn't hide the past forever.

Turning back he pulled her into a deep kiss, holding her in place with a hand resting on her neck. She fell into the kiss, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He was just barely able to mutter the words '_be careful_' against her lips as the kiss intensified. But at his words it seemed to draw her back into reality, and Hermione ended the kiss soon-after, staring up into his eyes.

"Well I wasn't going to be reckless," she joked, and he smiled for her sake. "Don't worry so much love, I'll be fine."

"I'll come back and check on you around four," he said, knowing that it was possible that he'd check in earlier, though he didn't really want to argue about that just then. She nodded, leaning up once more to kiss his cheek.

"Don't worry," she called, heading for the door, "I'll be fine. Try and focus on something else while I'm gone, and talk with the Healer about your mother again before leaving!"

"I will," he replied, though he was a lot quieter than she was. As Hermione disappeared out the door he once more saw a flash of his past dance across his vision, and he tried to shake it off. Merlin, he was going to worry about her every second until he saw her again. But that wasn't the only thing he dreaded.

She was going to ask his father about the past, that much he knew. But just how much would Lucius spill when he thought his wife was dying and his world was over? Draco wasn't sure he wanted to find out. What would Hermione think of him then?

* * *

**A/n:** Long chapter! Leave a review! Next one is a retrospect chapter again, so be prepared! Then we will go and see what's up with Hermione/Lucius in the chapter after that, okay? So go ahead and leave some comments please! They help.


	23. Retrospect: Promises

**A/n:** Another look into the past!Thanks to my beta**JDeppIsMyLovely**! *Not yet edited. Hope you enjoy the update.

To be honest, Draco never dreaded going home as much as he did the summer following the end of his second year. Remembering the true horrors he encountered over Christmas break for merely visiting, he wasn't looking forward to going home.

His letters from his father became scarce during the second half of the year. He knew that his father was not only angry, but working with Voldemort more and more each day. Sometimes there were endless weeks where no owls delivered mail concerning the upcoming return of the man, and others there were a ridiculous amount of letters appearing in just a few days. It all depended on what Voldemort was doing at the time.

Draco knew better than to address the man as Voldemort though outside his head, even in front of his father. It should always begin with 'lord' or 'my lord', nothing else. Thankfully, he hadn't needed to try that in front of the man himself yet, and for that he was grateful.

But once he entered the threshold of the Manor, Draco knew he was in for it. It was tense in the entire place, his father's disdain evident. Draco tried to slink up to his room unnoticed, but it didn't work. Lucius found him about halfway up the stairs.

"Son, where do you think you're going?" Freezing on the steps, it took Draco a few moments to muster up the courage to turn around and face Lucius. He stood tall and proud as ever, looking huge to his son even though the boy was higher up than him. Lucius cleared his throat and Draco descended the stairs quickly, pausing in front of his father shamefully.

"Well, if it isn't my disobedient son. I see you can follow some instructions accordingly. But why do you comply to the regulation of a school more so than the will of your own flesh and blood."

"Father-"

"Answer me!"

He held up his hands, looking at his father through guarded eyes. "I… I always come home right after school is out for the year?"

"You don't sound too sure of that Draco."

"I… I'm not exactly sure what is expected of me sir."

"Of course not, "Lucius grumbled, "that would be asking too much. Go upstairs, change, and meet me down here in twenty minutes. We have much to discuss."

Draco didn't need to be told twice, and bid his father goodbye as quickly as he could. Disappearing up the stairs, he willed his fluttering heart to calm down. It was just his father, and he'd had months to calm down. There was nothing left to be afraid of.

* * *

"Have you ever heard the term _Mudblood_, son?" Lucius asked once his son returned, three minutes ahead of time. The boy took a seat away from his dad, a bit hesitant to get to close.

"No sir."

"I figured not, else you wouldn't hang around one."

"Pardon?"

Lucius' eyes narrowed to slits. "You don't think I'm completely stupid, do you son? I've got my spies within Hogwarts, always watching. I've gotten reports that you spend a sickening amount of time around Granger, Potter's friend."

"I only get near her so I can taunt her, father."

"My sources say otherwise," he snapped, arching an eyebrow. "Now, I know you're pretending to be dim. We both know that you've _heard_ the term Mudblood, right Draco?"

The stern, slicing tone in his voice told the young boy that it was best to not argue. "Yes sir."

"But you don't really understand what it means?"

"No, I don't."

"Oh Draco," Lucius said, picking up a cigar, "I should've taught you ages ago. Just knowing what a word means doesn't mean that you know how to use it properly."

"What does it mean?"

His father sat forward. "It's used to describe someone very much like Granger, someone with _dirty_ blood."

"Dirty?"

"Impure," Lucius corrected, noticing his son's confusion. "She doesn't have magical parents."

The child's eyes widened. "And that can really happen?"

"Of course, the girl exists right? But she's nothing Draco, remember that. She is dirt, disgusting, and filthy. You say that you don't associate with her outside of bullying, so this fall we'll put it to the test. You best be learning how to make that insult flow right off of your tongue, son."

"Of course," he replied, inwardly feeling confused. How did she have dirty blood exactly? She wasn't pure, but from what he understood everyone bled red. Did she bleed brown or something? He kind of wanted to figure that out now.

"Now Draco," Lucius continued, drawing him out of his thoughts, "I've been in contact with our Lord recently."

"Oh?"

"Yes. He's mighty interested in who you will become. Over the next few years I expect to see your dueling skills multiply and yours grades skyrocket. I will not have a repeat of that dueling session from Defense Against the Dark Arts." His father's eyes darkened at the memory, and Draco looked down.

"Of course not. It won't happen again. Potter just got lucky."

"I heard he spoke to a snake."

The boy's head shot up, and he looked directly at his father. "You heard about that?"

"News spreads fast when you're connected correctly," Lucius gloated, smirking at his son. "And I'm very connected."

"I know."

"And no more coming in second place to Granger. That is simply unacceptable."

"It won't happen again, father."

"Good. My son should be getting the highest grades at Hogwarts, not a little Mudblood."

"She won't beat me again."

"She best not," the man muttered, "Else there might just be problems."

Draco gulped. He didn't really like the sound of that. "Yes sit."

"Excellent. Now, you also need to improve your flying levels. Being seeker is just lovely, but when it comes to putting that skill to the test in a life or death situation you'd be better off knowing how to dodge than do fancy tricks."

He mentally put that detail away for later. "Yes sir."

"Oh, it's so nice to see that you're finally deciding to be compliant. It only took the past year to get there."

His eyes lowered again. His father wouldn't drop the topic that easy.

"Perhaps you need another reminder as to why we don't accept failure or disobedience in this family."

"No sir!" he cried, shaking his head quickly. Lucius smirked at that.

"We'll see how long my lesson lasts. Go on Draco, off you go. I'll send for you when you're needed."

Without needing another reason to get out the blonde left his father, eager to be read of his condescending comments and disapproving eyes. He wasn't sure what might follow this conversation later, but he didn't much like what was happening here. His father wasn't one for forgiveness, and Draco knew that he probably wasn't through with the lectures yet- actually, he was positive.

* * *

"Did he ask anything else?" his mother asked, straightening the collar of his shirt before it was time to go. They were having a fancy dinner party, and he was expected to attend.

"No," Draco admitted. "He just wanted to know about Mudbloods and Granger and those things."

"Nothing about Christmas?"

"He brought it up vaguely but we didn't really talk about it."

Narcissa sighed. "I suppose that's good, for now. You don't need to be around your father alone too much, okay Draco? He's been in an awful mood for weeks."

"He's still angry that I disobeyed him, isn't he?"

"He doesn't like to be crossed," she admitted, rubbing her head. "He is very picky about things, and expected you to behave… as you always have. He was quite stunned that you went against his direct orders."

"But I've never _not_ been home for Christmas before!"

"I know darling," she said, crouching in front of him. "But Christmas was a time where… where you shouldn't have been here. I know spending it with Blaise wasn't the same, but it would've been…"

"Safer?" he offered, watching his mother cringe at the word. He left awful that it was the best fitting word for the situation, but no one could argue with it.

"Yes Draco," she whispered, helping him slip on his coat, "It would've been safer."

"Will the same things happen this summer?" he asked, touching his wrists where he vividly remembered the bruises his father left behind. "Has father always been so… angry?"

"Your father doesn't convey emotions like most people son," Narcissa admitted, awkwardly rubbing her head as she pulled the long sleeves of her dress further down. "He's more… physical than most people out there."

Draco caught on quickly. "I know he hurts you too, mum, I've seen it, remember?"

Her eyes widened a fraction, despair filling her chest. Grabbing his hand gently they moved to the bed, sitting down together. She only knew of one time he'd witnessed things, a time during Christmas break when his father was exceptionally furious.

"When?" she asked hesitantly, brushing the fringe on his forehead away from his eyes.

"This winter, when father was angry. He left the same sort of marks on me."

Narcissa's heart cracked hearing this. Deep down she knew her husband raised his hand to their son, went against her wishes and sacrifices and stepped out of line to begin harming their only child. There was a reason she put up with him so much. "Has he ever hurt you before?"

He shrugged. "Only last summer mother. We both know that."

Pulling her son to her breast, Narcissa fought for control of her emotions. "He's not supposed to touch you Draco, you know that right? Father's shouldn't harm their children."

"He shouldn't hurt you either." Draco responded, pulling away angrily. "So why let him? He probably hurts you a lot when I'm away, huh?"

"Draco-"

"Why does he do that?" the blonde continued, getting up off the bed. "He shouldn't. Blaise's dad doesn't hurt him."

"Blaise has had three father's darling."

"It doesn't matter! They aren't like my dad!" He paced the room. "I don't get it mum. It's wrong right? It doesn't make me feel good, and no one else I know is treated this way, so why does he get away with it? Hell, why do you _let_ him get away with it!?"

"Calm down Draco!" his mother hissed, getting up off the bed. "We don't have a silencing spell put back on your room yet, and if you're father hears it will only cause another rift. You can't just voice your opinion like that here."

"I used to be able to," he muttered, leaning against the wall. "I don't understand. I treat Granger nicer than he treats you, and she's a Mudblood. Why is he so cruel mother?"

Sighing, her head dropped into her hands. "I don't know Draco, I don't know. He's never been the same since…"

"Since?"

She looked up, wiping away a tear, "Since he got his Dark Mark. He's never been the same."

Draco's eyes flashed. "But he wants me to get the Dark Mark when I'm older!"

"I know!" she explained, getting off the bed. "And I've told him before that I refuse to let you. It's not an honor like he says Draco, it's a burden. You'll never feel the same once you have it."

"I don't want to feel different," he spat, "And I don't want to end up like father. He's not really too kind."

"No, he's not," Narcissa agreed, looking away. "You won't end up the way your father did Draco, I won't let you."

"I don't that," he sneered. "Father has my destiny mapped out in his head already, and he isn't going to just let me argue with it. Mother, we both know what's going to happen later on. I'll get the tattoo and follow father and Voldemort down whatever dark, sinister path life takes me."

His mother sank into the floor, resting a palm to her hand. He could see the tears falling freely now, and wished that she wouldn't look so sad. "No Draco, I can't allow that," she whispered. "I refuse to let you follow the same path your father once did."

* * *

**A/n:** Got this one up before work :) As promised here is a look at the past and up next we'll look at the confrontation between Lucius and Hermione. Leave a comment dearies!as he


	24. Aftermath: Speak

**A/n: **Thanks to my beta** JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited

She marched with confidence to the solitaire section of the Manor specifically held intact for Lucius Malfoy. Her heart beat fast against her ribs, and she began wondering what she'd gotten herself into. Draco kept his past secret for a reason, and if she thought hard enough she could recall all those instances when they were young children at Hogwarts when pieces of the puzzle didn't fit together. His odd behavior on the bus second year after the winter holiday, the scars she'd glimpsed as a child and again as an adult that had no honest answers paired with them. The things he kept hidden, secret and barred were things she was about to pry into, sticking her fingers into dangerous, forbidden territory.

Hermione wondered what it might do to him to know what she did. She knew, despite her curiosity that Draco would always come first in her mind, and she would not leave him at St. Mungo's all alone that night. For one thing, visiting hours only stretched for so long and the one night that she left him there he did not return to the Manor, and instead tried to stay outside St. Mungo's, waiting for the sun to come up so he could go back in. He was grieving so hard, and he didn't even want to acknowledge it. She couldn't finish her entire conversation with Lucius that night, and would probably have to return again sometime tomorrow to complete her task, if not the next day as well so she could still watch Draco. Honestly, she didn't know how long this was going to take.

Having taken a detour on the way to this wing, she now had a vial of the potion with her. Her trade for answers with Lucius would be some more of the removal of his tattoo. She hadn't been to visit in many days.

She couldn't promise him that he could see his wife in her final days, for it was not her place to say.

Wandering to the room she kept finding Lucius in, she hesitated outside the room for just a moment. He was always a bit moody, unpredictable and hard to read at times. She needed all of her wits about her to really get to the bottom of things when questioning him. She just hoped that he wouldn't try to be too difficult.

Pushing open the door, she found the elder Malfoy sitting on a chair in the room today, staring at a wall, apparently seeing nothing. He didn't even glance her way as she entered, leaving the door open.

"I thought you might return," he said in a hoarse voice, alarming her. If there was one thing Hermione knew, it was that he was not malnourished. The elves would bring as much food and water as the man pleased. So why did he sound so sickly?

"What gave you that impression?" she asked, crossing her arms. This conversation didn't need to be uncomfortably hostile, since the topic would likely make things tense enough. All she wanted were answers, answers that might save his wife's life. Well, maybe if he didn't care about the tattoo then he would jump at the opportunity to help Narcissa. He did seem fairly eager to know of her condition last time.

"You're a curious person, Miss Granger," he said, still keeping his eyes trained elsewhere, "And you aren't getting the answers you desire from Draco. It was only a matter of time before you returned here to get the answers he won't offer."

"How do you know that?" she continued, a bit surprised by his answer.

"Draco is guarded," Lucius said simply, shrugging. "He tries to keep his problems to himself."

"So I've noticed," the girl grumbled, thinking how that was just like what she'd once done.

"But you're not here to converse with me about silly little things," he continued, shifting in his seat. Finally Lucius looked her way, and she was briefly frozen by the cold, dead look in his eyes. "You're here for something specific, right?"

"Your wife is dying," she stated outright, ignoring how he flinched at her words. This he already knew, and if he was trying to deny the fact then reality would only hurt him more in the end when something bad truly did happen. "She's very sick, lying on a bed at St. Mungo's. Your son is with her."

"Good," the man muttered, catching her off guard, "She would want him nearby."

"I think you're missing my point," Hermione said, crossing her arms. "She's dying Lucius, and nothing they've done can help her. We removed her tattoo even and there's no change in her demure! She still lies there like a corpse-"

"You got the tattoo to go away?" He sounded surprised and she stopped speaking briefly, waiting to see what else he might say. Instead of speaking though, he glances down at his own tattoo, as though envying it. "But how?"

"The same way I got Draco's to go away?" She was confused, uncertain why he was so stunned by news he'd already heard. So what really caught his attention in that statement?

"I knew Draco's tattoo could go away," Lucius said, looking off again. "His has only been there a short time, and it has not existed long enough to manifest his body like mine has. There's dark magic out there Miss Granger that simply never goes away."

"Like what?" It wasn't lost to her that he was calling her by a proper name and not Mudblood, but she tried to not focus too much on the name-change. They were getting towards the reason for her being there, and she didn't really want to let opportunity slip away. If he was going to start revealing things, this could quite possibly be her best option to latch on and start prying into his mind, searching for some answers to her questions.

Lucius was silent for a moment before he spoke again, apparently considering what he should say. "The Dark Mark takes a certain… mindset to adjust properly to the person receiving it."

She wrinkled her nose. "I haven't heard that before."

"No," he said, his fingers tapping nervously together, "You probably wouldn't. People don't think about those things anymore. People leap headfirst into things that they aren't prepared for."

"And that's what you did?" Hermione asked, egging him on. "You joined Voldemort without really thinking about the gravity of the situation?"

She expected him to laugh and shoo her away, saying that he had every intention to join Voldemort no matter the cost. But what he said next knocked her off balance, and she became uncertain just what she was dealing with.

"Yes, something like that."

"What!?" She threw her hands up, eyes widening. "This is some kind of joke, right? I know we haven't known each other very long, but come on, I've known your son for _years_! You've always been headstrong and determined to follow Voldemort's cause! If you think that I'm going to believe anything else then you're completely barmy."

He chuckled, but the sound was hollow. She expected malicious laughter perhaps, but not a broken chuckle that sounded more pained than anything. The more familiar she became with this side of Lucius, the less she truly understood about him.

"I don't expect you to believe anything Granger," he said, standing up. She watched as he used the wall to wander away from her, looking out the window briefly. "Why would you? I've given you no reason to trust my word."

"But I need you to tell me the truth about things!" Hermione argued, growing frustrated. "This isn't just a mind game; it's your wife's life! Give me a reason to believe what slips out of your lips, and I will."

"Why?" he asked, looking her way. He looked truly curious. "After all the things I've done in the past, why would you trust me now?"

"Because it's hurting Draco too," she admitted, crossing her arms. "He's suffering, your wife is suffering, and you're suffering as well. If you open up, it could save her. Something substantial could be found out and she might be able to live! You could see her again if that happens."

He scoffed. "Draco will never allow it."

"If you help him save his mother, he might."

Lucius looked over at her, pausing against the wall. His eyes searched her face, looking for any deceit in her words. "You think so?"

"I don't know the entirety of what you did in the past to make him hate you so much," she admitted, dropping her arms so one could slip inside her pocket, "But I do know that you're not the same, blood-thirsty man that I used to know. The aftermath of war has changed you, and I can see it in your ever-changing emotions." Her hand locked around the vial in her pocket, and she took a breath. "There is more in this deal than you know."

"Why do you say that?"

She pulled the potion out, dangling it in front of her. "Answer my questions, and I'll give you another treatment. I must return to Draco's side in a few hours to bring him back here, but I suspect that we can cover quite a bit of ground in the time being. You answer my questions, and I'll ease your pain a bit."

"And you don't think my son will object to this?"

"Like I've said before, Lucius, in the end he's more concerned about saving his mother than what's going to have to happen with you. You broke his trust in the past, and I don't blame him for having no faith in you. Draco won't object because he can't watch his mother die. And I don't think you could live with the fact that she's dead, especially if you could've done something to prevent it beforehand. Now, are you going to comply and stop asking silly questions, or do you want to waste more time? Every passing minute is another one taken from Narcissa's lifeline. She's not holding on very well as it is."

His resolve crumbled, and he took a seat on the nearest piece of furniture, staring at the ground. "Very well, ask your questions Miss Granger, if you must."

Hermione decided to not wonder too much about his sudden agreement to comply, and instead leaned back against the wall, pocketing the potion again. Where to begin?

"Why does Draco ward you away? It can't simply be because of hatred. He's not the silent-type, and I'm certain he would have something to say to you- quite angrily might I add- if this was just based on hatred. So why don't you explain the rift amongst you three first?"

For many minutes he did not reply, and she begrudgingly stood around waiting for an answer as the minutes carried on. Rushing him might back-track them, and she refused to make this more difficult than it was already proving to be.

"I was a horrible man."

"_I_ could've told you that Lucius."

He shook his head. "No, it's not just because I was a Death Eater."

"Then go on."

The man took a breath before continuing. "You asked me… about the Dark Mark first."

"Yes?" she replied, thinking they were getting off track.

"I'm sure Draco has explained it to you, about how the darkness infests you. I received my mark as a seventh year at Hogwarts and Cissy… she was a year younger than me. We were already engaged, set into an arranged marriage from the time we were born, and it was expected that we would both share common interests. Her father believed that since I was receiving the tattoo, that she might as well get one the same night I did. It was a bonding fest in a way to him, a way to link us together even more. We would share that experience together, and witness one another suffering unbearable pain. He saw to it that she came with the night I joined the Death Eaters."

"She joined against her will." Hermione said, stating a fact more so than asking a question. "She didn't… she didn't want the tattoo?"

"No, she didn't," he replied, his voice getting softer. "But she was falling for me at the time, and would do anything… anything at all to make me happy. I wanted her to get the tattoo as well and join me. So she did, and I think she's regretted it ever since."

Nodding, she wondered how this related to her question about fear, but didn't push the topic. He was speaking, so why the hell would she interrupt.

"Did Draco teach you about the other important details of the Dark Mark?"

"Other details?" she asked, quite confused now. He looked up and pursed his lips when he heard the question in her voice.

"I take that as a no." Rubbing long fingers across his face, he took a moment to reply. "Voldemort dabbled in some very dangerous inexplainable magic. When he first tried to take over the wizarding world he was using some ancient magic books he'd dug up as references to create the Dark Mark. Old magic is often hard to control. One of the strangest things about the Dark Mark is that in order for it to set right, the person receiving it must want it. Narcissa… she didn't truly want it."

"But she had one, so what does that mean? Does it-"

"Calm down Miss Granger," he said, looking off again. "I'm getting there."

"If you say so," she replied, feeling more and more confused by the minute.

"If you don't want the Dark Mark, it doesn't set right. The aftermath of things doesn't really matter, for many regretted joining later on. It's only when the horror of the tattoo is being embellished into your skin that this matters, as the dark magic sometimes has a mind of its own. As you've probably seen, it can make you angry, and recently it's been causing unbearable pain to many. When the tattoo is setting, the dark magic plays chaos on your insides. One secret to handling the tattoo when it's forming to your flesh is to keep your mind open and your thoughts empty. The magic goes where it pleases, touching your mind and soul. If you're not dedicated to Voldemort, the magic can find that flaw within you. Like all dark things, it seeks to destroy it."

"Narcissa had that flaw," he whispered, fidgeting. "There was doubt in her mind about things, and it showed. The tattoo hurt her then, and I'm sure it continued to hurt her in the years to come."

"You never did anything to stop it then?" Hermione pressed, attempting to wrap her head around things. This was a rather complex idea. "She's just been… hurting."

"I don't think you understand," he said, looking at her again. "It hurt her originally because she wasn't into the cause, but more into doing something I was passionate about. And it ate at her. She didn't embrace the darkness but instead fought against it. I don't think she ever thought things would be this complicated. She wanted a simple life with a family, right from the start. And I complicated things by joining the Death Eater's, towing her along, destroying the image of a life she once had planned out for us. She loved Draco dearly from the moment he was born, but she didn't love the path we were going down."

"What do you-" she began, but he cut her off, talking as though he didn't hear her.

"She doesn't love what I became. She loved the boy from school, the sweet charming one that was hers to begin with. She doesn't love who I am anymore."

"Lucius-" she said, but again he ignored her. Hermione got the feeling that he was no longer speaking to her, but instead to himself, lost in the memories of the past.

"I've been the reason things failed since the start," he whispered. "Her affections changed towards me because I changed first, because I changed our lives. I changed our path, I changed my character. She doesn't love me anymore for hitting her, them, for being so cruel…"

Hermione felt her eyes widen. So that was it. Those memories that sometimes slipped into her head at night when she thought about the past, when she pictured Draco and all those unexplainable marks he sometimes had on his skin, they were never due to self-harm, but parental harm. In the end, as she once feared, the marks on his body were dealt by the hand of Draco's father. He was the culprit to the scars on the blonde's body that went unexplained day after day. It was all his fault.

She stayed plastered against the wall, watching the elder Malfoy unravel. It was saddening to stay the least, but she couldn't come up with something to say. Did she pity this man now that he saw his life through enlightened eyes, or should she shun him for his past? At least unlike Ron, he could accept that one of the major problems here wasn't his wife, but him himself. So was he the guilty party or just another victim?

Staying silent, she listened to him mutter as thoughts continued to dance inside her head. What was she supposed to do now?

* * *

**A/n:** And we're breaking ground! Next chapter will talk some more about Hermione/Lucius and the conversation they're having. Let the answers begin :) There's also going to be more on the tattoo and Narcissa, so don't be too confused yet. That's not the only explanation you're going to be given. Go ahead and shoot a review this way!

And don't forget, you're always welcome to check out my facebook. There's a ton of banners up there at this point :D Also, you can check out my new slash story (Draco/Charlie) under the title The Love and Snark of Draco Malfoy! First time trying slash so we'll see how it goes.


	25. Aftermath: Confusion

**A/n:** Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely** **Not yet edited.

* * *

Hermione wasn't really sure Lucius remembered that she was there anymore. He didn't look in her direction as he continued muttering, seemingly talking to himself. She was beginning to worry that he might hurt himself; he was working himself into a fit.

He kept saying things were his fault, or at least, that's all she could hear. His voice would go from loud too soft as his sentences carried on, and she hoped that he wouldn't choose to lose his marbles now. The last thing she wanted to do was haul Draco's father over to St. Mungo's as well, sheepishly admitting that she finally caused him to lose his mind. Yeah, that might take some time for him to forgive her for.

So she would try to avoid that as much as possible. But once the topic turned to abuse, she got a bit uncomfortable and lost focus. Her brain was still processing that.

_That's why Draco can't stand being within a hundred meters of his father. The man put him through hell as a child. I wonder how long the abuse lasted, or how awful it truly was… but I suppose those aren't the type of questions you ask Lucius Malfoy… or Draco for that matter._

Hermione sat on the floor, keeping her wand in her hand. If he tried anything, she'd have him at her mercy in seconds. She wasn't quite sure what would happen anymore. She chose her next words carefully.

"Draco fought against Voldemort in the end," she reminded, thinking about the past she shared with the elder Malfoy's son. "Why didn't he hurt?"

The man finally seemed to remember that she was in the room and glanced over, eyeing her. He grew silent, sizing her up. "I forgot you were here Miss Granger."

His composure was back, ironed out and perfected as he straightened his back and looked at her. There was the infamous Lucius Malfoy peeking through again, all composure and no emotion. Betraying such internal feelings to her probably had his mind reeling, but after that glimpse of insanity she opted that it was probably best to not try and figure out his mind.

"So I noticed," she replied, acting the same as before. "However you've only managed to dance around my question."

"You asked a question? Oh, you mean the question about Draco? He hurt, I saw him suffer sometimes when he was trying to go against orders. But initially when he got the tattoo he wanted to be a Death Eater. He started second guessing things afterwards."

"And you just let them suffer… together?"

"They never talked about this together," he said, looking at her as though she were insane. "That would be rather silly. Nay, they thought that they both had strong barricades around themselves, shutting out pain and reality. They might've tried to deny reality but I saw through their charade."

"And did nothing?"

Lucius shrugged, cold-hearted once more. "What they wanted and what I wanted were two completely different things."

"And you decided to pursue your own desires over their needs?"

"At the time I didn't care, Miss Granger. I was… a difficult man."

"A difficult man whose wife is now dying in a hospital," Hermione agreed, attempting to steer them back on track. "She's very ill Lucius, and the treatment I administered to your and Draco's tattoos didn't help her. And you've evaded my questions since arriving, but unfortunately I can't dodge this topic forever. You might be tripping down memory lane, but that's not going to help the present. And I sense that you love her very much."

"You assume many things."

"It's not an assumption," she corrected, "It's what I see based off of both what I've witnessed and what I've heard. You've admitted several… troubling things tonight and although it's nice that you're not acting as stubborn as the minutes drag on it doesn't help the fact that she's getting worse as those minutes pass by. I need to try to get to the bottom of things Lucius, and your stubborn behavior isn't helping anything."

"You said I wasn't stubborn just a moment ago."

"_As_ stubborn," the brunette corrected with an eye roll. "I still need answers. Your son is back at St. Mungo's waiting to hear what I have to report. He might not want to admit it, but he's waiting desperately for some sort of news. He needs hope."

"And you think he'd listen to anything I have to say?" Lucius asked, perplexed. "He stopped caring what I had to say a long time ago."

"Because he wants his mother to remain alive!" She took a calming breath, forcing herself to remain collected and patient. "He wants her to get better, and the answer to everything might lie with you. This is a curious condition that the Healers are struggling to understand. It's something that very little is known about, and although I created the cure for the Dark Mark, that doesn't mean that it was the root of her suffrage. There has to be something more that you know."

Lucius looked away, seemingly zoning her out. She took the opportunity to stand, her bum becoming a bit numb the longer she sat on the ground. When he turned back a few moments later there was a new gleam in his eye.

"My wife fought the Dark Mark for many years. Most people who are tormented by the tattoo killed themselves initially, and since his downfall people are just trying to cope. Narcissa… she never coped well. She would blame me for the pain sometimes, which she might not be wrong for doing… but she always had problems with the darkness, the evil contained within the Dark Lord's branding. It ate at her over the years. I never considered the… prolonged issues that would come from this."

Hermione sat silently, completely lost at that point.

"Evil fights for dominance in your mind," he continued, rubbing his scalp. "It eats at you like termites to wood and tries to consume you completely. When you fight against it, it fights back to torment you until you comply. I complied, Draco complied to a degree, and Bella complied completely. Narcissa never did; her body has been at war for years. Perhaps that is why she suffers so. Evil is always most destructive to the purest of minds."

"And she was completely pure?"

Lucius nodded, eyes fixed on the floor. "The purest. And I tarnished her."

"I thought evil did that."

"It did," he said softly. "But my abuse probably didn't help either. No matter, that's a topic for another day. Right now we're talking about evil, not evil in the form of myself."

"Okay."

"All I'm saying Miss Granger, is that the darkness inside her ate at her for decades. Her body had to break at some point, and it chose to do so in Azkaban. She's like a rag doll now, isn't she?"

Hermione chose to not answer.

"I should've known to stop her from getting the tattoo from the beginning, I should've known that she wasn't meant for this lifestyle. But I went along with it anyway, and now she's going to pay the price. It's so unfair you know that things worked out this way. She was supposed to be a Ravenclaw student in the beginning, but requested to be in Slytherin because she knew that her parents would not approve otherwise. If you're meant to be a Slytherin, you always know. You feel it in your blood. She had hesitations. Everything was wrong from the start."

She continued to nod, feeling more and more confused by the minute. Nothing was really making sense anymore, and she got the feeling she was pushing Lucius' sanity too far. He'd been isolated for Merlin knew how long, and now she was showing up sporadically with a bucket-load of questions for him to answer each and every time. It was probably wearing him down. Maybe it was time for a break. She bent over and sat the vial on the ground, stepping back to the door before speaking.

"Apply the potion whenever you want," she said, catching his attention. He looked up, studying her with curious eyes. "It needs to go on in a thick layer and sit for several minutes before being removed. You can clean it off with any sort of towel. I'll be back sometime between tomorrow and next week with more questions, I can assure you."

He seemed surprised that she would be returning yet again, but said nothing as she turned to go. She was halfway down the first hall before she heard the sound of footsteps and turned to see him rushing her. Immediately her wand was out and she stood ready to fight, but he stopped dead in his tracks and held up his hands. She looked at him skeptically.

"I don't mean any harm," he said, eyeing her. One hand was holding something small, but she couldn't make out what it was around his fingers. Noting her interest, he lowered his hand and opened his palms, revealing a key below.

"What's this?" she asked, perplexed. He waited for her to come forward and take the object before speaking. He stepped back several feet as he spoke, making sure that a good amount of space remained between them.

"It's the key to my former bedroom," he admitted, frightening her when his voice cracked. "It was warded specially during the war to keep rogue Death Eater's away at night, especially from my wife. It could only be opened with that key, though I doubt anyone outside my family even knows that until today. When you're ready, I want you to take a peek."

She found that to be an incredibly odd sentence. Draco once spoke of his parents long forgotten bedroom as though it was hell on earth, yet here stood the devil handing over the key to his former throne. She didn't understand what he had to gain from letting her into a room where dark deeds once took place, let alone how she would know when she was ready to go look at the past. The room could be in utter disarray or be impeccable- the latter possibly the most alarming choice of them all. If it was impeccable to this day, then she would be left wondering what sinister deed happened beforehand to make everyone want to leave that place in the same condition it was the last time they woke up there. What happened to make them leave the space untouched?

She was jumping to conclusions, and she knew it. Hermione didn't honestly know anything about the room aside from it harboring bad memories on everyone's part, but why Lucius Malfoy, her former enemy and a renounced Death Eater handing over the key to his secrets?

"Why not you son?" she asked, unable to keep in the question. He met her eyes when he spoke.

"Because Draco won't step foot in there ever again. He can't go back to that misery."

"Then why do you subject me to go into such an awful place? What exactly will be gained from going in there?"

He smirked- almost. "When you can answer that question, you'll be ready to enter."

Hermione was silent to that, and the blonde turned away without a word. She didn't call out to him to explain, ask him about things or even move. She was still rooted in place long after his tall figure had disappeared around the corner.

_What the hell?_

Really she thought she was beginning to get to the bottom of things, but the longer she was with Lucius the more confused she became. Was this a silly joke or was he being serious about the key? She might do well to ask Draco, but it could also hurt him if she did.

How was she supposed to get anything done if one answer leads to five more questions? Sighing, she slowly leaned back against the wall. And to think that she still had to go drag Draco out of St. Mungo's. Ah yes, another thing she simply did not want to do. He never left willingly, and now she was just feeling drained. Maybe it would be best to drop off the key in their room before going to retrieve him.

After all, she would need some time now to think things through.

* * *

**A/n:** Chapter 25 there. It's alright, but I've written better. Review anyway? It's always nice to have feedback especially when you're a bit stuck. Also, if you think you get what's happening send a comment this way! I'd like to see what you actually got out of that.

I start college Monday, so after that things will slow down. Depending on how much homework I get and how difficult my classes are there might be two updates a week, but I wouldn't count on more than once a week for a while- perhaps until Christmas, though this story should be over long before then. There's not too many chapters left as it is. Just thought I would let everyone know :)


	26. Aftermath: Key

**A/n:** Thanks to my beat **JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited.

* * *

Draco was frustrated that she hadn't come up with answers while she was away with his father. Truth be told she had many questions for him after leaving the blonde man but withheld them, deciding she needed more time to think everything over before she jumped back into her questions, wonders and confusion. She'd been at Malfoy Manor for quite some time now, but still knew so little about its occupants. That was also frustrating.

He fucked her again that night, grieving the entire time. There was a lack of passion within his movements throughout the whole experience and his eyes were haunted. Hermione suspected that he was trying to cope with things, but she wasn't too fond of having him cope that particular way. They're first experience was supposed to be heated, and it hadn't been. This time everything lacked energy, and in the end she was left unsatisfied, sitting beside him in bed long after he'd fallen asleep. Everything affected him more than he liked to let on, but whenever things like this happened, she got anew glimpse of how troubled he really was. And it wasn't something she was proud to get to see. She wished he wasn't so withheld, troubled, and tormented. It was hard to watch.

The following morning they didn't leave immediately for St. Mungo's, something they'd been doing for weeks now. Instead Draco sat for a long time on the bed after getting ready, staring down at his hands.

"What did he tell you?" he asked at length, catching her off-guard. She observed him for several moments before saying anything, trying to decide if his current state made it safe to do so.

"He told me your mother was supposed to be in Ravenclaw House," she began, and he immediately looked up. Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to mention first. "Did she never tell you?"

"No, I knew that," he replied, looking at the woman sitting beside him. "My father told me once… back during the war when she was sick and he was drunk. I thought it was a joke or something. Maybe it wasn't if he repeated the same thing to you. Or maybe he doesn't even know what he's saying anymore."

Hermione pursed her lips. "That's not all he told me."

"Oh, I hope not," Draco said bitterly, shaking his head. "You were gone for hours. If that's the only thing he said then it would've been a big waste of time."

She couldn't quite decide what was best to mention next. "He said there might be darkness lingering inside of her."

"From the tattoo? Yeah, I've heard that one too. He'd always make remarks about it, but he'd never offer up any answers. He told me that the tattoo's been invading her for years once, but he never explained it, and I don't need the details right now. Just the basic facts."

The woman nodded, surprised how much of her conversation he already knew. Maybe the answer sat right in front of them, and they were all simply to blind to see it. Well, since nothing exciting was happening thus far, he wasn't becoming confused or surprised in a good way, then perhaps she needed to dig deeper into the newfound information.

"He gave me a key to their old bedroom."

Immediately Draco's demeanor changed; his eyes lit up, his hands tightened to fists and he stood, putting some distance between them as he moved to lean against a wall. "He did _what_?"

"He gave me a key," she repeated, wondering if her judgment from last night was better than her rash choice this morning. Maybe he didn't need to be alerted of that so suddenly. "I-"

"You didn't go in there?" he asked, looking frightened. Quickly she shook her head, and he let out a long sigh at that, seemingly relieved. "Good, don't. There's nothing useful in there."

"How do you-"

"I just know okay?!" he barked, getting touchy. She arched an eyebrow at that, thinking that his answer was unsatisfactory, just like last night.

"So you've been in there lately?"

"No."

"Since after the war?"

"No-"

"Then how do you know there isn't something useful in there?" Hermione retaliated, standing. "Draco we've been doing these considerably stupid things for a while now, trying to help your mother! Your loony father _trusted_ me with this key for some reason, and wants me to open that door at some point! I don't know what's so terrifying about it at all, but it can't be too bad. I mean-"

"Trust me," he interjected, his tone quieter now, "It's bad."

"And that's based off of your memories from how long ago?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter how old the memories are Hermione. That place can only get worse overtime, not better. There's nothing good in there for you to find, and I don't want you going in there. It's a very unpleasant place."

"Unpleasant enough to avoid while your mother lies dying?"

Again Draco looked away, pursing his lips. "It's just a bad place."

"I got that, but it's also a room in your bloody Manor," she reminded, shaking her head. "If the room is so awful, then why don't you have it-"

"No!" he cried, stopping her before she could say anything further. Whatever the next word was going to be that escaped her mouth he didn't know, but he wasn't looking forward to finding out. He didn't think he could face whatever she was going to say. "No. It can't be removed, touched or tampered with. There are too may bad memories there."

"Then that's just another reason to have something done with it! Maybe one reason the lot of you can't move on from the past is because the past sits all around you! Whatever you couldn't face back then has been shut away, locked behind doors like that makes everything better. But it doesn't Draco! It doesn't make anything better. You're just forcing things out, but you're not really dealing with whatever happened."

"What do you think happened?" he spat, eyeing her intently now. She wondered if she perhaps crossed a line too quickly right then, but wouldn't step back across it now. That might just cause a rift later when she brought up her next topic of conversation, and she definitely didn't want that.

"You're father told me to not open the door to that bedroom until I knew what lay behind it. Until I could answer why I needed the key I shouldn't go in there. He doesn't seem to want me to delve into the past either."

"No one does Hermione, but don't take advice from my father. He's ill in the head."

"And he would get better if someone took him out of this place. He might be able to answer our questions better that way."

Draco looked alarmed at her idea, but didn't protest. That had never happened before, and she quickly wondered what had changed in him. Was he losing hope so much so that he might just help out a man he internally hates to help the mother he loves?

"He mentioned one last thing while I was there. One last alarming thing."

"Let me take a gander about what it is," he snapped sarcastically, turning away. She could see the hurt in his eyes. Obviously already knowing that the topic would hurt, she almost felt bad bringing it up. But nothing she'd mentioned really went over well, and in the end she decided declaring one last thing couldn't make it any worse.

"Abuse," she whispered, sinking back on the bed. "He used to hit you."

"And my mother," he spat bitterly. "Honestly, I expected you to figure that out a long time ago."

"I did," she said, her tone still soft. "A long time ago."

His expression faltered and the anger slowly slid off his face, watching her shamefully stare down at the ground. Telling himself that it was time to be controlled again he straightened and took a few calming breaths before wandering back towards her, sitting down on the bed as well.

"I just didn't say anything," she continued, refusing to look his way. "We weren't friends, and you didn't seem to want my help anyway."

"I probably wouldn't have taken it," he admitted dryly, "I was a stubborn prick of a child."

"You still are." He grinned softly at that, placing a hand on top of hers.

"What else did he tell you Hermione?"

She glanced his way. "You actually want me to continue? I was under the impression that you were done listening."

Pursing his lips, he took several moments to answer. "Because I can't avoid the truth forever."

Her eyebrows shot up. He was actually admitting that, when less than ten minutes ago he was angry at her for even bringing it up. "I don't understand," she admitted honestly.

"I don't either," he pouted. "But you keep bringing up my mother. She's the reason I'm going through with all of this insanity, because I don't want her to die. Yet I keep shooting down your suggestions to help her."

"Draco… what's gotten into you?"

He shrugged, looking away. "The Healer's came to talk to me while you were away yesterday."

Her eye widened and she flipped her hand over to grip his own, leaning closer. "What did they say?"

"She's dying, Hermione. She's slipping faster and faster every day. The longer I sit here doing nothing, the less of a chance I have at saving her. Someone came in yesterday… they requested that I pull the plug, saying that if and when she recovers she'll never quite be the same."

Hermione reached up, brushing away a stray tear from his cheek. "That's why you were so detached last night. Merlin Draco, you should've told me! We could've done something-"

"There's nothing that _can_ be done," he admitted, pulling away from her. "That's the problem! That's the problem since the beginning… her problem is new, her insanity isn't helping and overall they see very little chance at recovery. I'm losing her; she's going to slip right through my fingers."

"We can still do something," she said, moving closer again. Brushing his hair from his forehead, she kissed his cheek. "They don't know that we got rid of the tattoo-"

"Yeah, the Dark Mark, and that didn't do shit. Someone noticed that it was gone yesterday and asked about it, but I just shrugged. It's not like I knew what to tell them anyway."

Her eyes widened. "Someone noticed that it was gone?"

"Yes, but the Healers have bigger things to worry about than that. When she gets better, well, that's when the questions will come. Until then I think they're just focusing on her health, as they should."

"Good," Hermione muttered, glad that it wouldn't be a problem for the time being. They sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again. "That's why you want me to keep talking, isn't it? You're getting scared, and therefore you want to push your way into topics you don't really want to discuss-"

"I don't have a choice anymore!" he snapped, pulling away as he stood. "She was a clock on her life now, a clock counting down the minutes and hours and days they suspect she has left! I should be there with her now, I should be helping her and holding her hand and trying to get her to wake up! But no, instead I'm here, talking about my problems instead of doing something about them. I should be with her!"

Hermione nodded, understanding that he wanted to be with her. He didn't tell her how long they predicted that she would survive, but she got the feeling it wasn't long from the way he was fretting.

"You should go back," she said at length, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I'll come with."

"No," he said, clutching his head, "That's not what I want."

"Then what do you want Draco?" she asked, eyebrows drawing together. Now she really didn't understand.

He sighed, pacing the length of his room twice before he spoke. "Tell me what he told you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me Hermione," he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Tell me, I need to know."

"Draco-"

"It could help!" he cried, getting closer to her. "I need to figure out his mindset, how his mind is working and how much he's willing to reveal about our past. So now you know my father used to beat me, okay? It's been going on since the summer after first-year. And it stopped a long time ago. I put my foot down, I stopped taking his shit. And I'll never let him hurt me now, or you, or my mother."

"Something tells me that he isn't into hurting your mother anymore," she said quietly, glancing away. He chuckled, but the sound came out broken and upset.

"I wouldn't let him. Hermione, I have to know what else he said. I have to know what else I can do to help her, what else he told you. I need to know."

Glancing at the clock, she realized they'd been talking for nearly an hour. He was desperate for her to answer his questions, and she felt like she should comply. He wanted to help his mother, and he would do anything to succeed, even delve into a past he couldn't stand to think about.

He loved his mother unconditionally, and Hermione got the feeling that once upon a time Narcissa was the shield between Draco and Lucius in his younger years. Now it seemed that her son felt he had to pay her back for all she did.

But it wasn't just that, and she knew it. Draco couldn't stand losing his mother, because his world would unravel. And although he wouldn't admit it, deep down she thought he might just feel the absence of his father too if something happened to the man. But, that was just a hunch.

* * *

In the end, she wished she hadn't told him anything. Not only was he upset that she knew he'd been abused, but she also ended up hearing stories of his own. Stories about a mother who stood against a crazy, evil man who hit her just as hard as he hit her son, and the hero Narcissa turned out to be in Draco's eyes. She finally understood why his mother was such an important person in his life, other than the obvious reasons; she did what mother's should, she protected her child.

That is until about fifth year when she stopped being able to. Draco said that he told her to stop standing in the way and that he could handle himself, but she didn't believe that to be the truth. Lucius told her that the tattoo made Narcissa weak and put her through pain, and that's what it sounded like happened. The woman slowly curled inside herself, becoming a shell of her former self. She was always in pain, normally silent, and easily controlled. Not only did it sound like the effects of her disdain for the tattoo were talking hold but also, it sounded like she was slowly giving up.

The end of fifth year marked the time that Draco would've gotten his tattoo. She was fairly certain it had something to do with that, but currently she wasn't sure.

Draco was off at St. Mungo's now, saying that he desperately needed to see his mother. He'd gotten lost down memory lane, repeating stories to her that he apparently didn't mean to, but he let them slip out of his lips anyway. Now it was noon and he was concerned about having not seen her the entire morning, and quickly excused himself to the hospital. Hermione said she would be along shortly, and he took that answer.

Before leaving, he gave her a searing kiss, one overloaded with emotion that reached down to her toes. It was the complete opposite of the night before, and she wondered if their talk was more uplifting or frightening. He left too fast for her to be completely sure.

Lucius was warded away from and banned from his wife because Draco feared that he would harm her again. And years of solitude and utter hatred left the man with much to think on, while his wife slipped away into herself. The wards where intact for protection for both Draco and Narcissa, with Draco being the barrier between his parents, but now Hermione was certain that choice did more harm than good. Only, she didn't think Draco saw it that way. In his eyes, his mother was safe from his father, and his father was suffering. All was good to him.

But it wasn't good, not really. The lasting effects took a toll on both parents, and now he's suffering trying to make things right. She worried that Draco will collapse under the pressure of trying to save his mother, who might be impossible to do.

And Hermione saw just one problem with saving his mother. His mother, despite all the odds, seemed very attached to her husband still, even after everything he'd done. And she doubted that Narcissa would take it lightly if Draco just left his father to suffer.

Despite everything, she thought that Draco might have to put his hatred aside, man up, and save his father as well, the very person that made his life hell for years.

* * *

**A/n:** Go ahead and shoot a review this way! I did my first few days of college this week, so I'm adjusting. There's a good chance updates will only be once a week after this, but I won't completely guarantee that. If I have the time I might post early since the chapters are quite short here :)


	27. Aftermath: Turning-Point

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

* * *

It was nearly two weeks before Hermione found out anything else worthwhile. Draco's emotions remained in a never-ending twister of mood-swings, with his lovely girlfriend trying to figure him out along the way. He was quite torn and difficult to understand as of late, and she juggled her days trying to help him. The blonde stressed about his mother day in and day out, fretting about her mental and physical health. The Healer's predictions were no longer relevant, since almost a week ago they declared that her condition wasn't stable and it would be difficult to determine her remaining days. Life support spells were in place, but she knew it took a toll on him. He was cracking under pressure.

She wondered how much he could take without losing his mind.

And in the last two weeks she'd made little headway with his father. She knew that he was breaking too, losing his mind just as his son did the longer Narcissa Malfoy sat in a hospital unable to move, speak, think. Although Hermione pestered Draco to just move the man there as well, he refused. He didn't want to help anyone.

He just wanted his mother back, and unfortunately that wasn't happening. He was distant again, his kisses back to nothing more than ghosts on her lips, his emotions slipping back inside. If his mother died, she worried he would just slip further inside himself. And he couldn't be allowed to do that. He would go back to being frigid, cold and distant. And he'd come so far from that.

About three weeks after her initial discoveries about Narcissa and being handed a key, Hermione came to a startling discovery.

"I think that your mother isn't going to get better until she sees Lucius," she sighed, the pair sitting on his bed one afternoon. She'd literally had to pull him out of the place, struggling to get him back to the Manor to get even a bite to eat. Malfoy kept neglecting to eat, too concerned with every new complication that he had thrown his way. Hermione began wondering how he would break under all that pressure.

"I won't take him," the blonde snapped, shaking his head. "I can't."

"Draco if you don't… if we don't try something then she's going to-"

"Die, I know," he spat bitterly, looking away from his girlfriend. "But I doubt having my father in the room is going to do anything more than my presence has."

"The Healers said that even though she can't respond she still hears us," Hermione pointed out, sitting up. "Maybe if she heard his voice, she'd come back. What is there to lose Draco?"

"He could say something horrible."

"I think he's done the mean thing already," she replied, sighing. "He seems full of regret these days, but that's all."

"Of course he's full of regret! Look at everything he's put us through! He even admitted to you-"

"I know what he's admitted," she replied calmly, placing a hand on top of his. "I was there. But Draco, he isn't as vicious as you pinpoint him to be. I know grudges are hard to let go of, but at this point, it might actually be the only option left. Even I can't figure anything out."

Draco was silent for several moments, thinking in his horizontal position on the bed. "You think it will help?"

"Yes."

"And if he says something… bad?"

"He can be removed too you know. Technically if he goes, he'd also be checked in as a patient."

The blonde's eyes flashed. "A patient? Don't you think this event would cause enough ruckus without adding that in? He hasn't been seen in years and now we're going to go take him to St. Mungo's to speak with my mother? If my mother's appearance there stirred things up then his defiantly will!"

"I'm not denying that it will," she snapped, gripping his hand tighter. "I'm saying that the Healer's at St. Mungo's are trained, and will probably see a difference in him that even we don't. They're going to see that something's wrong and that he needs to be checked out. You have to accept that."

"I have," the man replied bitterly, looking down. "I just don't want both of my parents in St. Mungo's at once."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "It could be the start of a new beginning, you know. Getting your father out of here might actually give him a chance to recover, and then the two of you would be able to talk about the past like grown men instead of conflicted family members. Obviously you're not going to bury the past anywhere along the way as you try to help your mother, but dragging your father into the equation will draw attention. People are going to ask questions."

"I've already accepted that, ages ago."

"Then you've thought about moving him before?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "When I last thought about it, really thought about it, my father's re-introduction into society began and ended with a hearse. I thought the next time he left this place would be in death."

"Is that what you hoped for?" Hermione questioned softly, looking a bit alarmed. He turned to her though and shook his head, dissolving her fears before they ever really existed.

"No, it's just what I predicted. I thought I would never be able to move him away from the solitary place I put him in, and that insanity would eventually drive him to his own death. Do you know how many nightmares I had, imagining that one day I might go find my father dead?"

"And that never prompted you to take him somewhere else, somewhere safe where that fear wouldn't exist because there would be people around to help and watch him?"

Draco shrugged, looking away shamefully. "I'm a coward Hermione; history has proven that. I was too scared to let the press see him and ruin my family. We've been over this before."

"Yes, we have," she admitted, letting go of his hand to rub her temples. "You haven't really answered my question though, Draco. You've only danced around it, explaining things that I didn't ask about."

"And what was your question again?"

Hermione sat silently for a moment, flexing her fingers. Hopefully he wouldn't trail off discussing random things again. "Will you take your father to St. Mungo's, not only to possibly help your mother, but also to help him recover from the confused maniac he's become?"

"Do I really have a choice?"

"Yes," she said, lying back down beside him, "Always. You can chose to keep him here and do nothing while both parties continue to worsen, or you can try to reunite them. Draco, he's asked before to see his wife, and never have you allowed it. Maybe it's the only choice we have left. Removing the tattoo didn't work because there were complications there beforehand, and now the Healers don't even know what to do. I've spoken with your father occasionally, and it's hard to figure out what else there is to do. The Dark Mark wasn't a person; it didn't think on its own. It was just pure evil, and it tainted your mothers soul."

"My father is pure evil," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Your father may have been at one point, but now he seems like nothing more than a broken man who regrets his past. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"He's had more than a bloody second chance! He had years before all of this to change, but he never did."

"He was also being influenced by Voldemort, someone he worshipped and followed for years. That kind of presence in a person's life can do weird things to them. I think without Voldemort to follow Lucius is beginning to see how wrong he was for all of those years."

"And if he hasn't changed at all?"

"Then perhaps he never will. Just think on it darling, please. I know it's a tough choice to make, but it's something you can't prolong anymore. They both need to get better, and they're only going to get worse the longer we stand around doing nothing."

"You just want me to think for now?"

"Yes, and then tell me when you've made a decision." She reached across the bed and stroked his arm, "But I do request that you don't take forever deciding. Time is well… time is key here. We can't wait forever."

"I know," he replied quietly, staring at the ceiling. The problem was, he was too worried to do anything else but sit around and mope. Deciding meant that he was choosing to do something for everyone, his entire family, and that was something he wasn't quite comfortable being responsible for. Not yet anyway, when he was still quite young.

It didn't matter if he was young though. He has a rather important choice to make.

* * *

"And you're sure this might be a good thing?" the Healer asked, looking at Hermione oddly. The brunette nodded, looking towards the doorway again. They should be arriving at any moment.

She sat beside Narcissa in a chair, speaking to a new Healer who'd been transferred to this case when it was announced to the staff less than twenty minutes before that Lucius Malfoy was coming in to be evaluated. She knew he would need a potion or some type of drug, but she mostly hoped that they would keep him there for a while. Mostly, she hoped that he didn't lose it when he was finally confronted with people after so long.

It had been four days since her talk with Draco, and during that time he'd made the decision to have his father brought to St. Mungo's, after he was allowed to see Narcissa. The Healers were not happy that he was going to see a patient before being checked in an examined, but Malfoy still had money in places, and it went a long ways when it needed to. The staff agreed so long as Lucius Malfoy did not pose as a threat and/or harm to himself or anyone else once he arrived. Hermione hoped that he could keep it together until then.

Well, things couldn't possibly be as difficult as when Draco and Hermione went down to explain to Lucius that he was being relocated. From what she could tell, he was floored that his son was paying attention to him at all, let alone moving him to a) help his wife and b) actually be treated for something. But the shock wore off rather quickly once Draco started getting snarky again and couldn't refrain from saying something both offensive ad snarky to his father, something she missed at the time. Whatever it was, it set off an epic war between the two males for many minutes, and she stood back and watched the fireworks explode. There was a lot of tension between the pair, tension that never truly got resolved. And it reared up at the worst of times. At some point Lucius relented, shutting his son off entirely.

But the elder Malfoy still agreed to come to St. Mungo's. She was surprised that he agreed considering how reluctant he seemed, but in the end she decided that he was doing it for his wife. No matter what Draco said or what happened in the past, Lucius seemed to love his wife at that point. Now, when and if Narcissa ever recovered, it would be her decision as to whether or not she returned his affections after everything. She could go on her way someplace else once she was healthy enough and divorce Lucius, but Hermione didn't know which path Narcissa would follow. Frankly, she didn't think the Malfoy men had any idea either.

She looked back to the door again when she heard a scuffle, and a moment later Lucius Malfoy stumbled in through the door, leaning heavily on his cane. Behind him followed Draco, along with two concerned looking Healers. She got out of the chair quickly when she realized that Lucius was making a beeline for her eat. Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her away from his parents, holding her against him. She got the feeling that he was doing so for his own comfort more than out of concern.

Lucius bent over his wife, eyeing her as he set the cane aside. Hermione had to strain her ears to hear what the elder man said, but it grew so silent thereafter that she knew he had the attention of the entire room.

"Narcissa… darling, I'm so sorry."


	28. Aftermath: Room

**A/n**: Here's chapter twenty-eight! I hope you enjoy this story darlings Thanks to my beta** JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited.

* * *

"What do the Healer's say?"

"My father's condition isn't anything they haven't seen before," the blonde began, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He's gone mental from being locked away for so long… something that is my fault."

"You did what you thought you needed to at the time," Hermione reminded, gently caressing his cheek. They sat in the waiting room a bit later, Lucius' medical analysis given to Draco less than twenty minutes ago. "You were scared, and hurt, and you blocked him out of your life the best you could."

"Yes," he snapped, staring down, "And now the man who might've been able to save my mother is mentally insane."

"Only partially, and don't forget Draco, that man is also your father."

He pursed his lips, looking up at her. "If you knew what I know, Hermione, you would not forgive so easily."

"But I don't know," she agreed, "Not fully. I know what I've been told, but that's it. And I may not look at things the same way you do, but that's a good thing. It lets us have a different perspective to look at."

"I don't think this is going to help," he grumbled. "She didn't even stir at the sound of his voice."

"Sometimes it takes something more powerful," Hermione reminded, moving her hand down to rest on his shoulder. "He didn't say more than three words before the Healer's hauled him off to be examined. The state you brought him here in wasn't the best."

"It's the same state he was in when I found him."

"I rest my case. A thirty second moment together won't change things. It will take time."

"Too much time," he whispered disheartedly.

"You don't know that," she reminded, standing. She pulled on him hand, and he eventually stood as well. "They've allotted times for your parents to be together, and if you would quit being stubborn they could have a duel room."

"You think that's a good idea?"

"It could help the process along. Come on, we'll take the long way out. If you prefer that they stay in the same _monitored_ room, then we can tell the people up at the front before we leave. I think it could be beneficial in the long run."

He nodded, letting her guide him down the hallways as they departed. He was instructed that both his parents should be left to rest for the remainder of the day, and begrudgingly he departed behind Hermione, grateful that she was there for him to lean on. Out of everyone in his life, he'd never had someone who stuck with him for so long and through so much.

* * *

She awoke the following day to a nude man beside her, a blanket covering his lower body. Flickers of memory from the previous night danced through her head, from the passionate sex to the quiet hours following where they lay awake together, thinking things over. She fell asleep first, wondering what went on in his head when there was nothing to focus on but his own thoughts.

She crawled from the bed and made her way over to one of the dressers, studying her reflection in the mirror above. Her hair was ruffled and knotted from their adventures, but she looked quite content after their night together. Although he was quite stressed the day before, for once their adventures in bed weren't plagued with angst. He actually enjoyed himself.

Maybe, despite everything, he had a bit of hope now. He really did need to keep his faith, otherwise he would be thoroughly depressed until things got better or worse for his family. Considering that he agreed begrudgingly to have his parents stay in the same room, she supposed that he was trying to believe that things would be better. After all, they couldn't get much worse.

Scratch that, they could get a million times worse. If his mother died then things would spiral downhill forever. She wasn't sure how he would take the fallout.

Picking through some of her garments, she found the key Lucius gave her. Curiosity peeked up now that the man was nowhere to be found and Draco was out cold. Maybe she could take a quick detour and go exploring?

Hermione glanced back towards her boyfriend. He was snoring softly, features hidden by his hair. She smiled at how adorable he looked, but gripped the key in her hand nonetheless. There were answers hiding behind that door, answers she couldn't just ignore.

Draco would forgive her if something turned up. If nothing did his temper would just get the better of him, as usual. Hopefully something useful would turn up.

Getting to the door was quite easy, actually. She knew the path by heart by then, and Draco didn't stir when she left. But actually entering the room was another story entirely, considering how foreboding it seemed while standing outside it. The Malfoy's were very protective of this particular space, and now she was quite curious as to why.

Gulping, she hoped Lucius didn't have skeletons or something else hideous hiding inside. Shoving the key into the keyhole she steeled her confidence right then, so early on in the day and pushed it open, stepping inside.

Surprisingly, the room was immaculate. She expected the remains of a forgotten fight more than skeletons, but not a perfect room that only had one flaw; dust. Why would they be so protective of the space?

Drawing her wand, Hermione lit the space and opened the curtains. It looked like everything had been left in the same place from the day that the room was locked. An old compact of eye shadow sat open on a vanity, expired and useless now. A brush sat beside it. On the bed sat a dressing gown, giving Hermione the impression that something fancy was supposed to happen that day. Whatever it was though, it obviously never came to be.

While the space had several female items sitting about, it lacked any personal items of the male. Lucius' supposed side of the room was clean as a piece of paper, everything set in place. She also discovered while trying to open a dresser drawer that the furniture over here was spelled shut, whereas she could easily get into Narcissa's things. How strange.

Well, maybe not. Lucius was one peculiar male to begin with, and the fact that he wanted to keep his things so private shouldn't surprise her. He wasn't the warm-and-cuddly type, after all.

"I wondered when you would break in here." Hermione felt her heart stop, spinning around as she pointed her wand at the person. She should've known to begin with that it was Draco, who leaned against the door to the room, looking in as though he was frightened.

"Merlin you scared me," Hermione muttered, taking a calming breath. "I thought you were asleep."

"I woke up about ten minutes ago and discovered you were nowhere in the room. When you didn't show up in the rest of my wing either, I suspected that you weren't over by my mother's section. So I came here, and noticed the door ajar."

She nodded, looking sheepish. "Look, I know your father instructed I wait-"

"You really shouldn't listen to what my father has to say," Draco muttered, still remaining outside the room, "He's batty. Though I do wish you hadn't come here."

She held out her hands, looking around the room. "I don't see what's so sinister here. It looks like a commonplace, everyday room."

Draco shook his head, looking away from her. "Yes, it appears that way, doesn't it? But this room… it holds so many memories."

"Obviously nothing that I can see," she retorted, sitting on the bed. He cringed at the action and she quickly got back up. "Darling, I don't understand what happened here to make things so awful. Sure, the situation itself is pretty bad-"

"Come out," he interjected, holding out a hand in her direction. "Come out here and I'll explain it to you."

She arched an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"Hermione," he sighed, wringing his hands, "It's not going to make a difference in things you know. This place… well, it's a secret, but not one that can help at prior. My mother hid her fears here when she was sane."

"But didn't quite a few of her fears also originate in here?"

Draco chuckled, sounding pained by the topic. She wandered to his side now, staring at him.

"As the years wore on, the horrors that happened in here didn't compare to what happened outside this room."

* * *

"You never intended to have me look through there, did you?" Hermione asked later as they sat together in one of the sitting rooms, a cushion space between them. "Your father knew that."

"My father is a madman at the best of times, but he knows there's nothing you can discover in there. It's all of our memories that hide in that place, not physical evidence. But he also knew that at some point, I would end up speaking with you."

"How did he know that?"

"Because Hermione, given your nature, you were bound to ask questions, questions he can't bring himself to answer. He's going to leave the dirty work up to me, making me tell the truth. And just maybe, you can unravel things for us, see what we haven't."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, knitting her eyebrows together. "What am I supposed to see?"

He shook his head, looking down for many moments before he would meet her eyes again. "Would you like to know the other reason why my father was always so angry in my youth?"

"Other than what I already know?" He nodded, and she beckoned for him to continue.

"Voldemort always had a… fetish with my mother. I can't tell you where the initial attraction came from or even why, but it was there even before he died for the first time. My father didn't want to accept that."

She looked a bit horrified that the monster that was Voldemort could be attracted to anyone, let alone Draco's mother, but said nothing as he continued.

"At first he thought she was doing something to draw his attention. Perhaps it was because Voldemort knew my father was his most loyal follower, or at least back then, and knew that my mother would follow Lucius wherever. She was married to the best, considered the best. And Voldemort always wanted the best."

"So he wanted her?"

Draco nodded, tight-lipped. "Yes, he did. It was quite disturbing anyway. Although she told my father that she didn't want the man, he wasn't into listening, and often enough he would lash out at her, thinking she wanted to leave him. Voldemort never did anything about it, and I expect that he would've used the same methods of control- or worse."

"So she got stuck," Hermione muttered, eyeing the blonde. "She got stuck between two crazy men."

"Essentially. I don't believe she ever stopped loving my father though. She was too committed. Maybe that's why she always turned Voldemort down."

"I can think of more reasons to than that."

"I'm sure you can. He wasn't keen on being rejected, and often times tried to persuade my mother by being… kind to her when he returned. It was extremely creepy."

"I imagine so. But Draco, why did you tell me this now?"

"Because, this is my last resort. This is the only bit of information left that could possibly harbor an answer. If we can't come up with something based off of this, then we won't come up with anything."

She nodded, biting her lip. "Continue on then, even if I wish you wouldn't. I don't want to hear about anything brutal."

"You won't. I promise. Despite wanting my mother, Voldemort always took his anger out on my father. I think it was his way of staying on her good side. When that happened, his retaliations against us got worse and worse. Before Voldemort made a big return it wasn't so bad, but once he was back it only got worse."

"Makes sense."

He nodded in return, pausing before taking a breath, preparing himself to share the last snippet of his horrors.

* * *

**A/n:** I know, cliffy. The next chapter is halfway written, so it shouldn't be more than a few days. I actually finished this chapter up earlier today between classes.


	29. Aftermath: Laced

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta** JDeppIsMyLovely**! Not yet edited.

* * *

"Voldemort loved my mother," he began, looking at the floor as he spoke. "Although my father followed the man religiously and said he would do anything to please him, giving up my mother was the one thing he wouldn't stand for. It infuriated Voldemort that Lucius wouldn't give up my mother, and that my mother didn't love him one bit."

Hermione nodded, listening to the blonde as he began speaking. Things obviously troubled him about this situation, and she hoped that he could explain things all of the way through. Sometimes he held back, and this time she was finished letting him do things on his own time. They were out of time. Gripping his hand, he continued speaking.

"As I said, Voldemort tortured him for being so stubborn. If he didn't have uses for my father he would be dead long ago. I don't know why he wasn't killed when we fell out of favor, but we all survived the war. It hurt my mother to watch my father suffer, but she couldn't will herself to love the man. He was too disgusting, controlling, and horrifying to think of in that fashion. She refused all of his approaches."

"Mother was really the only person Voldemort was soft on. He took the time at meetings to pay her special attention, occasionally dragging her away from my father and I to have her sit at his side, as though she wanted to be there. She was the only person who could ever refuse him and escape with her life."

"How awful."

"No, it was lucky. Otherwise, she would be dead. But mother was headstrong and never cracked under the pressure Voldemort put on her to be with him, something that made my father proud. He just never showed it, and instead let frustration and anger shine through everything else when he came up to beat us. He couldn't get over the fact that his Lord also desired his wife."

"Sometimes, Voldemort would pay her special attention in different ways. Instead of making her sit by him or soemthin he would get her something special to drink, something the rest of us couldn't have. It always put me on edge when he did that because I could never be sure what was in the drink. Once, he laced it."

"Now, since he was a true master of the Dark Arts, he knew what to throw in that would make her lose control over herself. He made sure that she drank every drop that night, and before long she was… lusting after him. Everyone knew what had happened and was disturbed by the notion- even Bella. It only lasted one night but was potently strong, and I try to not think about what happened when my mother disappeared for the night, only to re-appear in the morning looking horrified."

She squeezed his hand, encouraging him to go on despite how difficult it was to talk about. He still wouldn't look up at her.

"Mother wouldn't say what happened, but it was easy enough to guess. Horrified with what happened she slipped into a state of depression for weeks, with my father trying to keep her spirits up. The potion had worn off by then, but the aftereffects were awful. Splitting headaches, pains, loss of breath, they were all part of the aftereffects of it all, something that would make it hard for her to forget the experience. It was truly terrible."

"It really is," Hermione muttered, unable to think of what she would do if she was put in a similar situation. She would probably lose her mind.

"Eventually she got better, but it took a lot of time. Despite the fact that my father was angry, it was during the weeks that followed that potion that he stopped beating us for quite some time. I think he was too disgusted, realizing that Voldemort would do things like this, even to his followers. Once my mother returned to normal though, he returned to his cold self. I think he tried to forget about what happened, as did I."

Hermione nodded, thinking the information over in her head, piece by piece as Draco got lost in his thoughts for a moment. "No one ever gave her a remedy for the love potion he used?"

He blinked, looking up at her. "Why would we? It wore off."

"No," she said, shaking her head as she stood. "If it's that strong, tainted with dark magic, then I don't think that type of thing would just wear off. I think it would require an antidote."

"We never used an antidote," he whispered, feeling foolish. "Fuck. You think that she's still suffeting because of that?"

"I think that a love potion dipped in dark magic probably isn't something simple and commonplace," she corrected, beginning to pace. "You said she started acting like a doll after her return from Azkaban, right?"

"Right."

"When did he lace her drink? At what point in the war?"

He shrugged, mulling the information over in his mind. "Right after you and your friends escaped from the Manor. It was a few days later when it happened."

Hermione did some quick calculations in her head, eyes widening. "You say that she's never been treated for it?"

"No…"

"Draco, that potion has been in her system for over five years. There are some incredibly strong love potions in the world, as you very well know, and one laced with dark magic can only be that much worse. Do you realize what this means?"

"I'm beginning to," he grumbled, wanting to strangle himself. So a possibly, logical answer was sitting in front of them all along, and they just overlooked the obvious signs for how many years? During the war his mother was indeed a big factor and concern in his life, but when she got over the effects of the potion he let it slip out of his mind. He didn't think about the lasting effects, the dangers, or the fact that this dark potion might linger inside of her. It would be a conflict.

A conflict, which very well might be the reason why healing and removing her Dark Mark did ntohign to change her condition. Something else sinister was at work, something that he hadn't considered until now.

"What were the effects of the potion?" Hermione asked, her mind turning everything over again and again, looking for another slip of information. It was all coming together now.

"The usual," he said, sounding dazed. "She wanted Voldemort, which was incredibly creepy. She would do anything for him, and stated so outright. Everyone knew that something was wrong."

"Anything else? A skin reaction, hair changing color, anything like that?"

"She got really sick afterwards and couldn't eat for three days," he recalled, memories flooding back. "She got paler than usual, but it might be from losing the contents of her stomach over and over again for several days. Her hair didn't change color though."

"Did she act any differently towards your father?"

"Actually, he was a lot kinder during that time. Seeing his wife suffer opened up that spot in his heart that still had some humanity, and he comforted her. She was very clingy the first few days after it all."

"That's not too surprising," Hermione muttered, rubbing her temples. "Do you understand how many love potions there are in the world?"

"A couple handfuls?"

"More like six. But you gave me some information, so I can use that to start my research."

"Wait- research?" She was already up and headed towards the bedroom door, and he had to jump up to catch up with her before she opened it. "Hermione, slow down."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know what you're planning," he admitted, staring down at her. "What will doing all this research amount to in the end?"

"Draco," she said, placing her hands on either side of his face, "It's a potion, not a spell. Potions, no matter how intense and awful they are, can be reversed. Whatever kind of potion Voldemort used, it was either dark to begin with or the dark magic influence was added at the end to make the spell stronger and to probably hurt her. If he loved her and she refused him, he probably secretly found a way to make her hurt. And it's still in play today."

"And you're going to go and try to figure out what it is?"

"Precisely," she said, grabbing the doorknob while he wasn't looking. "Look, why don't you go see your parents? We're do to go visit you know, and maybe you can speak to your father. I'll give you a bit of the potion to remove the tattoo and you can slip it to him. I'm sure he'll be grateful. Meanwhile I need complete and utter silence to try and utter silence to try and figure out what we're dealing with."

"And when you do?" he asked hopefully, ignoring the fact that it coul take a while and might not even happen.

"Then we can worry about how to revrse it. If there's no known way to remove the spell, then we might have to get creative."

Before she could say anything more his arms were around her, enveloping the slim girl in a tight hug. She smiled into his chest, enjoying the single moment of calm, collected love. He was grateful fro what she was going to do, and she would take his appreciation in handfuls. But she couldn't accept his help at that moment. He really did need to see his parents, and she knew he wanted to check in on his mother.

Pulling away, she gave him a smile. "Go on then, go visit- though, I wouldn't mention that you told me all of that to your father. There's no telling what he'll say. Just go and visit for a bit, and I'll get started."

He nodded, though he remained hesitant. "I can help you know."

"Yes, I do know, and I'm sure you will once you've returned. Go and see them for a bit Draco; it won't be detrimental."

The blonde nodded, kissing her softly before turning away. She left the room without a backward glance, her mind still turning things over in her head. She needed to get to the library right now and start researching.

* * *

"She looks calm when she sleeps." Lucius mused, brushing his fingers over his wife's cheek. Draco stood to the side, watching his father tentively interact with his mother. Despite the fact that the elder man had a bed of his own in there now he chose to ignore it, taking up the only chair to sit by her side and hold her hand. Draco didn't really know what to think of the interaction.

"Yes, she does," he said at length, unsettled by it more than comforted. He'd rather that she was awake, speaking, talking, living. But that couldn't happen, not yet.

Lucius nodded his agreement, continuing to brush fingers over his wives face. From what Draco was told upon entering St. Mungo's that afternoon, Lucius had yet to eat anything all day. He liked to spend every second of his time as his wives side.

"I brought you some more of that potion," his son said lowly, fingering the vial in his pocket. "Hermione sent it."

"She's a sweet girl. Tell her I thank her. I'll use it in a moment."

Draco had nothing to say to that, too thrown that his father just told him to thank Hermione. The world might be upside down for all he knew. And as his girlfriend recommended, he said nothing about what he'd informed her about. Lucius still didn't know how much she knew.

When his father moved to apply the potion, Draco took over his seat, clutching the same hand Lucius did. Hope dared to pool in his chest, the desire that his intelligent girlfriend might actually be able to pull this off rising. He desperately wanted her to succeed.

"Don't worry mom, we'll get you out of this."


	30. Aftermath: Report

**A/n:** Here's a new chapter! Enjoy! Thanks to my beta** JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited.

* * *

Draco didn't see much of his girlfriend over the next few weeks. Sure, she was there when he went to sleep at night and she was always around in the library, but her bookworm personality crept forward and blocked out everything else about her. The need to have an answer overpowered everything else, and while he went each day to see his parents and speak to his father, she stayed behind and continued to find the solution, positive that the answer hid someplace with the origin of the spell.

He wasn't sure how well that was going for her. After the first week she still didn't have anything to show for her work, and despite his desire to have his mother back he advised that she take a few breaks a day to keep her sanity. Unfortunately, she seemed very keen on ignoring him and doing whatever she pleased. When Hermione Granger set her mind to something there was no stopping her.

And that's exactly what he feared would happen. She had to give herself a break at some point, but knowing her she would try to avoid doing so until she absolutely had to stop and think on other things. He didn't want her overworking herself.

On a much more positive note, speaking with his father was becoming less and less awkward as the days went on. Now that Hermione didn't come every single visit and act as a medium between father and son they were forced to talk, with Draco bringing the potion to help with his Dark Mark on occasion.

But the younger Malfoy was still hesitant around his father. After all of those years of living in fear he wasn't about to revert back into a simple lifestyle with the man easily. It would take time. And for the time being that left them with only a few things to say and a lot of dead time, with which they both tried to ignore the elephant in the room; namely, their past. Draco would not discuss such tiresome and upsetting things with his father until the man was released from St. Mungo's and his mother was declared okay. And that part currently rested on Hermione. He sincerely hoped that she could handle the pressure.

About three weeks after Hermione initially came to the conclusion that she was looking for a love potion, Draco decided enough was enough and knew he had to take her out. She would go insane otherwise. And he desperately wanted her to take a break. She was out of it recently, wandering around a bit like a zombie. He wanted her to act like herself again, and not an overridden person.

She surprised him first, speaking before he could that day. He'd gone to find her in the library but the witch was already up, excitedly bounding toward him. She literally leaped into his arms before she finally stopped moving, and he had to quickly wrap his arms under her legs to keep her from falling down.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked, curiosity peeking through. She pulled away from his shoulder and kissed him, long and hard. It was a kiss filled with passion.

"I've done it," she whispered, pulling back to rest her forehead against his. For many moments he said nothing, slowly taking in her words.

"You've found a way to create a reserve to the love potion?!" He pulled away and picked her up by her waist, spinning her around as a look of pure joy passed over his face. "Amazing!"

Setting her down, the woman's expression clouded. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean?" All of his sudden glee disappeared in a second, worry clogging his heart. He didn't want to hear any bad news. "What's wrong?"

Shaking her head, she clasped both of his hands. "Don't panic- it's nothing bad. I'm closer to the actual goal, I'm just not there quite yet."

"Meaning?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, if you didn't jump the gun you would know what I'm talking about right now! Draco, I found out the components that seem the likeliest to reverse what Voldemort gave to her."

"So you found the potion?"

"Yes- well, mostly. I couldn't find any known spells that would cause these exact side effects, so I did a bit of research. It looks like he combined too basic, similar potions to create the mixture, adding in some dark magic as well to try and spice things up and make her pay if she did indeed continue to ignore his advances. Apparently it all worked too well."

"Yes, it did," he replied, not allowing his mood to plummet now that he was learning something. "So how can we make it? Tell me exactly what you need and I'll get it immediately. Cost doesn't matter, or rarity; name it and I'll find it."

The woman bit her lip, glancing down. "It's not that simple."

"Why the hell not?"

"The potion, well, once I've gotten all the ingredients that is, will need about a week to settle. So the faster we can get everything the better of course, but I don't want you getting too hung up on this. It's not my intention to drag you around. In fact, I can probably get everything myself-"

He stopped her there, gently pressing a finger to her lips. "Hermione, I can still see my parents while helping you acquire things. That's not a big deal. You're positively batty if you think I'm not going to do anything to help, however."

She smiled softly and he removed his finger. "Well, I would be lying if I said I didn't need the help. Actually, there's one thing I'm not looking forward to."

"Which is?"

"Well, although most of the ingredients are fairly commonplace, there's one that I can't locate anywhere, which happens to be the reason I brought this up in the first place. Do you recall that man you once got your salve from?"

His jaw tightened. "Yes? The one that hated you?"

"Yes. Well, perhaps if we go down together, then we can obtain the last ingredient I need and then I can start brewing. We might need to stop off elsewhere and stock up on a few things for that as well as the potion for the Dark Mark, but otherwise I think I have everything to make it."

Draco's expression brightened significantly at that, but he still looked weary over things. "Alright, so long as you bring me along. He might try to skin you alive just for your heritage."

Her eyes sparkled. "I can handle myself."

"Then why do you need me to come along so badly?"

"Because," she replied with a life, "I think it might be humorous to see his expression now that your tattoo is gone. He sold you a more-expensive and less-affective version of what I created. I'm sure it'll throw him off."

The blonde smirked. "Probably. And when should we go on this little expedition?"

"I was thinking about this morning before you go visit your parents. Then when you go visit I can brew it."

"And how long would that take?"

"Two hours initially I'm assuming, and then I'm predicting that I'll add a bit more to it around ten tonight."

"Excellent."

"Excellent, why?"

He grinned, pulling her in for another kiss. "Because, tonight I demand that you come out with me."

"Draco-"

"It's non-negotiable," he continued, arching an eyebrow. "You need a break, and since the potion has to sit as it is I would like to see my girlfriend out someplace else. I think a date is in order."

"You're mad! I should continue to watch it-"

"Hermione," he interrupted gently, cupping her cheeks, "You bury yourself in your work and constantly forget to back away for a bit and have some fun. If the potion needs time then I have to accept that there's nothing that can be done about it. I'll hope that my mother survives that long, and I'll continue to visit my parents. But I want you to have a life outside of the Manor too. Let's go to dinner."

She ignored the part about his mother's death, knowing that it was approaching with every passing day. "Very well, if you insist."

"I do." He kissed her again before grabbing both of her hands, kissing her as well. "You're fucking amazing."

"I'm human Draco."

He rolled his eyes, ignoring her modesty. "Come on then, let's go harass the old man. The sooner we get this over with the better."

* * *

Wandering back to an area so close to her old pub job felt surreal. Several of the male figures looking around the vicinity and the path looked on at her, trying to decide if they knew her or not as she passed by. Hermione kept a firm grip on Draco's hand, marching with her head held high through the throng of people. He was quite proud of her confidence, but irritated by the looks thrown her way. Couldn't people get over that? They didn't even appear entirely certain that she was the same person who used to sell them drinks at the old pub. Oh well, he preferred it that way. Less questions.

The alleyway was exactly as Hermione remembered, uninviting and disgusting, just like the shop they were journeying to. Memories of her previous visit there clouded her mind as they walked, and she hoped Draco would remember the experience and understand why she wanted him to come along.

_"Mr. Malfoy," he said roughly, eyeing the young man in front of him for a moment before turning his gaze to Hermione's hidden face. "I see you've finally gotten off your arse and come back for more of that potion. I must be honest, I thought that you had finally decided to let yourself die."_

_"Unfortunately, no," Draco spat in return, and already there was obvious tension in the room. This man was nowhere near professional. "Well, go get it then, if you already know that that's why I am here."_

_The old man frowned, still watching Hermione. She observed the scene from beneath the hood, and watched as he quickly moved from behind the counter to stand beside them. "And then is she_ _you're payment then for today?" he asked, cleaning off his hands. Her eyebrows shot up, and before Draco could stop her she had her wand drawn._

_"If you're insinuating that he brought me here to offer you some form of service to pleasure you, then you're sourly mistaken. That might be acceptable payment in your line of business, but prostitution isn't something I will partake in-" She would say more, but Draco leaned forward and pulled her wand away._

_"Don't mind her, she's a bit temperamental today," he said, draping an arm over her shoulders. "I'll be paying you in cash however," he continued when the man's gaze didn't soften. "I always pay for what I purchase."_

_"Yes well, just keep her restrained."_

_She tensed at that, but the man at her side gripped her shoulder and smirked. "Of course."_

If the salesman tried something like that again, there would be hell to pay. No one had a right to speak to her in such a way, and after overcoming Ron, no one would ever get away with it again. Draco wouldn't be able to restrain her if that were the case.

Speaking of Ron, did she just see his face back there? Whipping around she looked back towards a newsstand, eyeing the front page of the Daily Prophet. She hadn't read anything on Ron in weeks. Without thinking she pulled away from Draco and rushed back to the stand, picking one of the papers up.

_Golden Trio Member Found Guilty: Two Years Maximum in Azkaban_

Her breath caught in her throat. So all of Lavender's pleas were for nothing? Ron still got the payment he deserved? She began reading it as Draco came up behind her, eyeing the paper as well.

"Hey, lady, if you're going to read it you've got to buy it."

She didn't respond but heard Draco grumble and throw down some money, appeasing the irritating man. She was too lost in the article, reading words she'd been praying for since he stepped out of line.

_The case of Ronald B. Weasley stretched longer than anyone could predict, with unexpected twist and turns jumping out at every oppritunity to try and keep this man out of Azkaban for his sins. Best friend to Harry J. Potter and the former husband to Hermione J. Granger, one would think that he's the last person who would ever find himself behind bars. But the man's own actions led to his demise._

_We've read for months about the abusive hand Ron Wealsey adapted, which he used on his former wife, Hermione. It's no surprise that the Golden Girl divorced him, but what is surprising is the dedication and love that Miss Lavender Brown protraye during the trial and conviction of Mr. Weasley. She was so determined to prove authorities wrong in fact, that she had a retrial done with which Miss Granger was never actually present for._

Hermione didn't realize she'd been led to a bench until Draco gently pushed her down. "I'm going to go buy the ingredient," he said, though he knew she wasn't listening. "I'll be back in a few."

_While handling the retrial it was brought to the attention of the Auror's that Miss Brown did not always play fair, and actually used some illegal devices that in the end also got her the boot. She will stay for a month in Azkaban for her crime, though it is not severe enough to buy her anymore time there. Many people disagree with this charge on both sides._

_Mr. Weasley will also be responsible for paying all of Miss Granger's medical bills. Considering that she never actually went to St. Mungo's for any of her treatments, it's hard to determine just what sum of money that will amount to. Currently we know nothing about this bit. _

_Azkaban welcomes two new members to its cells, and we all know that no one returns from Azkaban unchanged. We only hope that imprisonment of these two does not result in twisted minds. For the trial did prove that although Mr. Weasley is not insane now, one never knows how a person will be once they return from Azkaban. It could be a whole new ball-field by then._

_We are now left to wonder what will become of Miss Granger and her new relationship with Draco Malfoy? Many people seem intrigued by this pairing, and are hoping that they go far. At this point, only time will tell._

She stopped reading, pushing the paper to the side. So, they finally got him prosecuted? It took the Ministry a long time to actually get Ron to Azkaban considering how long ago the initial trial was, and she wondered if that had to do with his old standing. After all, Ron was quite respected and admired before he went off the deep end and pushed Hermione too far. Perhaps there were people behind the scenes that didn't think he deserved such a severe punishment, and that's why it took so long.

It didn't matter now though. He would never have a chance to hurt her again. And although she'd been free from her estranged husband for months now, she felt a weight lift up off of her shoulders. They all got what they deserved in the end.

And she still had Draco, thank Merlin. He was such a great person amidst all this chaos. He was her rock during tragic times, and now she was returning the favor. She only had to complete this potion and hope it would work.

The potion had to work. She didn't believe that Mrs. Malfoy deserved to die. From the stories Draco told her, it didn't seem like the woman ever made a lot of choices on her own. It seemed that her husband or Voldemort or her parents always made them. Narcissa Malfoy deserved the right to live for herself. Hermione just needed to wake her up first.

Draco reappeared a few minutes later, looking sour. She assumed that his conversation with that rude salesman didn't go too well, but couldn't focus too much on the matter as she jumped up and kissed him, causing him to nearly drop the bag he was holding. He kissed her back fiercely before pulling away.

"I take it you found the potion ingredient then?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. He nodded once, looking solemn. She couldn't fathom why until he gripped both of her hands, glancing towards the paper that still sat on the bench.

"You're not still hung up on that situation, are you?"

Hermione actually laughed then, throwing her arms around him once more as she embraced him. "Not at all. I'm happy he's getting what he deserves."

The blonde gripped her back fiercely. "Good."

She kissed his neck once before pulling back, snatching the bag out of his hand. He cocked an eyebrow as she smiled teasingly, fiddling with the top button of his shirt then.

"So… where did you have in mind for tonight? I was thinking Italian food."

He grinned in response. "Yes, Italian sounds lovely. Shall we get out of here so we can get to work."

"I think so." Looping their arms together, they marched out of the alley way joking the whole way.

"I love you," she whispered at one point, just before they apparated. Draco actually had to stop and catch his bearings before he could leave, staring at open space as she disappeared, headed back towards his house.

"I love you too," he said to nothing, apparating as well. He would have to say it to her as well of course, but not until later, once he returned from his visit with his parents.

* * *

**A/n: **So, here's chapter 30! There's less than ten chapters left, which for this story isn't really very much at all. Post any questions, concerns or ideas that you have darlings! I want to make sure everything gets nice and sealed up before the end :) And it's coming, fast and soon.

The first set of italics is taken from chapter 26 of HAHB.


	31. Aftermath: Finally

**A/n: **Thanks to my awesome beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited.

**Written** **for**: Your Favorite Hogwarts House Boot camp Challenge! Prompt number 42: smile.

* * *

Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach the whole rest of the day and well into the night after what she said to Draco. Admitting that you love someone is a big deal, and it kind of just slipped off of her tongue. At first she worried it was too soon when he didn't say it back before going off to see his parents, but when he returned with roses, wine and the idea of keeping her in bed all night long her thoughts shifted. After a round of passionate play he said it to her, and she felt her heart shoot to the stars.

It was the best thing she had heard in a long time. He loved her, just like she left him. Hopefully, the relationship would only build from there. And now Ron was even out of the way, and after a sobering visit to Azkaban she was certain he would never be a bother to anyone again. But, that wasn't her problem anymore.

Making the potion perfect became her one and only goal. After she was completely certain that she had done everything in her power to prefect it, she sat back for the next two weeks, waiting eagerly for the potion to be complete. She began visiting Narcissa Malfoy more and more at St. Mungo's, checking up on her condition each and every time. Lucius Malfoy wasn't as difficult to speak with as he once had been, and with the combination of St. Mungo's treatments and the re-movement of his tattoo, the man seemed to lighten by the day. Just as Draco's tattoo once weighed him down with the pure dark magic, Lucius' did too. And as more and more of it was pulled from his system, the man reverted back to the person he once was before the Dark Mark came into play.

"How much longer on the potion, do you think?" Draco asked one day as they prepared to go visit his parents. Hermione stopped moving briefly, letting out a long sigh.

"Three days," she muttered, pulling on a long shirt. "If I could speed the process up at all, I would Draco."

"I know," he whispered, coming up to her half-naked form just to drape his arms around her. "We can't jeopardize it though just because we want to be speedy though, I guess."

"It'll get there in time," she whispered, turning to look up at him. He nodded, expression grim. Over the past eleven days his mother's condition had grown worse and worse. It was a miracle she could still hold on.

"But do you think she has enough time?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "We've been asking that question since the beginning, you know?"

"Yes."

"I hope there's enough time Draco. The potion should start taking effect as soon as she takes it. I made it that way, and hopefully it'll work out. We just need to keep our spirits up. It should do the trick."

He nodded, having been putting his faith into this woman for weeks now. He couldn't stop believing in her skill when they were so close to actually helping his mother either. Kissing her softly, he knit their fingers together smiling down at her.

"I'm glad you're coming again today."

"So am I Draco," she agreed, pulling him towards the floo. "Tonight perhaps we can go out again."

"Of course," he replied, grabbing some floo powder.

She grinned. "Good." _Anything to keep your mind off of things._

* * *

Throughout their visit with his parents he kept glancing her way, keeping his cool based off of her smile. For a brief moment during the visit his mother's heart stopped, but the Healer's now thought it was just a jump. The two Malfoy men almost ended up in tears. Hermione wasn't sure what she would've done if that happened, much less how she would really comfort anyone in that room.

Conversation remained murky. Now that this little happened everyone's mood had declined, souring as reality set back in. Hermione prayed Narcissa would hold up a few more days until the potion was ready. In fact, she was so caught up trying to figure out the math in her head that she stopped listening to what the two men were talking about for many moments.

When she did finally tap back into the conversation, she was a bit confused as to what was going on. "… and the original tombs are in the back of the library, so you'll have to do a bit of digging in order to find them. The records are at the leftmost side of the library, by your mother's family history section. Further down you'll find the will's, and from there-"

"I thought the wills were at Gringotts?" Draco asked, interrupting his father.

"We had them moved before the war began. Their hidden inside some rather drab stories from the mid eighteen-hundreds. I can tell you the titles, but Merlin knows that I can't remember what their about. I don't think I've even read all of them. Historical events that far back in the future are… unneeded."

Hermione glanced at Draco, arching an eyebrow. She silently asked him what was going on and the man gave her a bemused smile, knowing now that she hadn't been paying a bit of attention to the conversation for the past few minutes. He pat her hand, still smiling.

"I'll need the names if you plan to change them, father."

"Yes, well, of course. Get me a parchment and quill and I'll write it all down for you."

Draco flicked his hand, causing the items to appear. Wizards and witches who have been checked into St. Mungo's aren't supposed to preform magic unless otherwise informed, and considering that both the Malfoy's were there because of cases involving mental stability wands were out of the question. As the man scribbled out what he needed to the brunette turned to her boyfriend and arched an eyebrow, waiting to see if he would explain or not.

"Father wants to change the wills," he said, staring directly into her eyes. "I'll explain the details later, but that's the gist of things. He planned originally to have everything left to me and my wife whenever my parents pass, but current events have left him undecided, and just a few minutes ago he decided he wanted to change things once more."

That didn't really get rid of her confusion but Hermione nodded kindly, rubbing his hand. The man was on edge sitting there beside his mother still, and she could pester him later tonight with questions.

Reassuringly, she smiled once more. Little did she know that her smile and overall presence would carry him through the next few days.

* * *

"We're close Draco, we know that. Please, just try to calm down."

"It's not going to get better though," he replied, sitting there later that night on his bed. He was tense again, having gone to retrieve numerous things from the library while she showered. She was only moderately upset that he hadn't taken her along.

"What are those Draco?" she asked, nodding towards the papers at his side. He barely glanced down, waving a hand as if they didn't matter.

"They're my father's will and some other papers, that's all."

"Ah yes, those secretive papers. And what exactly do they entail? You never told me why they were so important earlier."

He let a smile ghost across his features at that, leaning closer to her. He pecked her on the cheek before speaking, knowing she would try to deny what he was about to say. "Father wanted to change the will to incorporate you, but I suggested something different. He was going to leave something behind for you, but instead while you were off in wonderland thinking Merlin knows what, I suggested something better to him, and he took me up on the offer."

"Oh? And what is that exactly?"

He smirked, patting her hand. "I could tell you… but it would ruin the surprise. My father wanted to personally hand it to you once he is released from St. Mungo's."

Her eyes flashed. "Oh Draco- no, you don't need to do that. Really-"

"I'm not doing it, remember? He's not good with thank-you's Hermione, and frankly neither am I. But you've done quite a lot for us recently, and he wanted to repay you. So please, don't deny what it is when he gives it to you, okay? Just accept it."

"I can't-"

"Yes, you can," he said sternly, although he was still smiling as he spoke. He bent forward again and kissed her, cutting off whatever response she may have had. He simply didn't want to argue.

He wanted to try and be at peace the next few days before the moment of truth. Pulling back from the kiss, he searched for her smile again, and tried to match it.

* * *

Three days came and went pretty quickly. Before anyone knew it Hermione was sneaking her potion into St. Mungo's, slipping it to Narcissa undetected. She cast a series of spells to cover over her work. If she ever got caught she would be in serious trouble.

They were all quite anxious. She kept her hands clutched inside her pockets as the potion worked its magic, praying that things might actually work out. Part of her feared that what she had created wouldn't work out and that she would sincerely let both of these men down. She didn't think there would be enough time to construct another completely different potion before Narcissa Malfoy slipped away. This one had to work out.

For many moments the trio stood with bated breath, each watching the scene from a different perspective. Lucius saw things through the eyes of a broken husband, awful lover and regretful man. Draco saw things as a scared child fearful of losing his favorite parent, and Hermione studied the situation in a much more detached way than the other two. She was looking for signs of life, movement, and function instead of thinking about the past, staring at only the eyes. She looked all over for any sort of sign.

She was the first one to notice when Narcissa's hand twitched, and the most prepared of the three when the figure took a deep breath, the same arm moving robotically up to her face to touch the skin there. Hermione actually thought everyone's eyes would pop out of their head.

Healer's began rushing in as her heartbeat picked up and everything began to stabilize. Hermione had a hard time thinking about where in her potion this type of reaction would come into play, but couldn't come up with any answers. She didn't think that Mrs. Malfoy would clear up so… _fast._

For the first time in ages, Narcissa opened her eyes. Hermione heard a collective gasp from the two Malfoy's as they were moved back so the Healers could work on her. Confused grey eyes looked around, taking in her surroundings. Through the throng of people she was able to make out both the face of her husband and her son, and faintly smiled.

She felt the man beside her swell with emotion, and he wrapped his arms around her as he moved behind the brunette, burying his face into her hair, inhaling her scent. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the show of emotion. Briefly catching Narcissa's eye, she nodded in the woman's direction, receiving only a confused look in return.

That was perfectly alright.

Gripping the arms of her boyfriend, she felt a smile tugging at her lips. For the first time in months, things were going to be alright.

* * *

**A/n**: Hello there! So, I know this chapter might seem a bit rushed, but really there was nothing left to write except Narcissa waking up. I mean we already know Ron's fate, that Hermione and Draco will end up together, that Lucius is changing and getting his tattoo removed and all of that. I didn't want to write a chapter of nothing-ness, so there you have it. I hope it was enjoyable.

Last chapter I said there would be less than ten chapters left. I was way off. It's closer to 3-5 chapters, with things lying closer to three, maybe even two. I might have a long epilogue at the end instead, we'll see. So be prepared for the end really soon! It's been fun.

And yes, this story will be kind of open ended. I won't seal off every detail of the story. Some things will be left up to your imagination to think about, and no clear answer will be given from me. But we'll see when the next chapters come out. I'm thinking it'll be done in about two weeks but it all depends on how much time I have!


	32. Aftermath: Happiness

**A/n:** Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**! **Not yet edited.

* * *

"When do you think she gets to come home?" he asked for perhaps the fourth time since they returned to the Manor. Hermione found his excitement pleasant if not a bit suffocating, and kept smiling at him whenever he asked the question.

"Once she's cleared, which like I've said, could take a bit. She did after all just come randomly out of a coma. The Healers are going to wonder what happened."

"But will they find your potion?"

"I did everything I could to cover it up. If they ever did find my potion…"

"You would be severely screwed," the blonde finished with a grimace. "But you're smart Hermione, no one's going to figure it out. And if they have questions, my father knows better than to sell you out after everything you've done."

"I know Draco," she replied, leaning back into his chest on the bed. "Strangely I actually believe that."

"I know."

"They might even notice that your parents Dark Marks are gone now that they want to take a closer look at both of them."

"Think that they'll figure it out?"

"Even if the Healer's do figure out that was me, I'm not telling any of my secrets. Do you know how bad that could be for everyone? We already went over this-"

"I never said you needed to darling," he replied, rubbing her arms. "I'm just asking."

Hermione smiled then, relaxing back into his touch. "Well then, no, I don't think that they'll figure it out. They might think it was me- or hell, that it was even you- but they can't prove it. I mean, if they wanted to go over the top with things they could always call us in, or even your parents, and make us take the truth serum-"

"You don't actually believe that they would go that far, do you?"

She paused briefly, thinking that over. "I hope not. It could cause a lot of mischief."

"You're telling me." Rubbing her arms, he kissed her head. "I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything. I wanted to help out. This was all done by choice Draco, so you owe me nothing. I'm just happy I could help you get your mother back to health and your father back to… being a normal person." She turned around when he started chuckling at that.

"Hermione… my father has never been a normal person. Even before the tattoo. He's a Malfoy. We're anything but normal."

She grinned, leaning into him again as she continued to face him. "Well I agree with that. You're both strange, difficult, headstrong, arrogant, pompous, blonde-"

"My hair color had nothing to do with my attitude."

Smiling she leaned in, twirling a piece of his short hair around her finger. "Of course it doesn't Draco, it just marks you as a Malfoy, hmm?"

Smirking, he bent forward and kissed her, keeping a hand on the back of her head to stop her from pulling away. She fell into the kiss, pulling his hair now instead of just twirling it. When they finally pulled away, he grinned wider.

"And we kiss well."

"Shut up, Draco."

"Ah, I see. So is that going to be something I hear a lot of now?"

"It depends on how much you irritate me."

Chuckling again, he hugged her to his body once more. "What are we going to do now Hermione? There's no one to portect you directly from, no life-threatening issues to handle, no dark-tainted tattoos, no madmen, no jobs-"

"I have a job," she remarked hotly, turning around again to glare at him. "Don't forget that."

He laughed, patting her on the shoulder. "Hermione, dear, you stopped going in ages ago. They had to have fired you at this point. If I remember right you stopped going in sometime before the trial. You talked about going back and never did. So where does that leave us?"

"Shut up, Draco."

"Ah, I see the catch-phrase will soon be yours. I expect I'll be hearing that a lot."

"Most-likely. Now, back to the job bit. I can agree that I _probably _can't go back to working there-"

"You've done this twice Hermione. Your boss might like you, but not that much."

"Oh, fine. But if we're done with all of our problems then I refuse to sit around here all day. I like having something to do, and now that I'm not creating different potions for you every two months I should be free to go off and try to get a worthwhile job. Hell, I discovered a new love for potions, something I never found when Snape was around."

"I can't imagine why, considering that he detested the lot of you Gryffindor's just as much as I did back then."

"Right, well, he made learning about potions a whole lot less joyful than it's been recently. Maybe I'll try a profession handling something like that."

"You'd be good at it."

"You like potions, Draco, maybe you could have something to do with it as well."

"Me, work? I know that we're trying out new things and all Hermione, but I still have an enormous fortune to live on. I have no real desire to work. I think I would rather stay at home. Besides, that gives me time to… reminisce with my family."

She gave him another funny look. "You would actually do that? I know you three have gotten closer but that's a hard picture to paint. Don't you think it might take some time?"

He shrugged, pulling her backwards with him on the bed. "Maybe, but I'm not going to know unless I try. Now that I've seen an ounce of humility in my father, I'm not quite as resentful as I used to be at the idea of actually trying to… get to know him. Well, on better terms at least. And I'd rather be around to make sure my mother heals properly after everything."

"Aw… how noble."

Draco shrugged once more, securing one of his arms tighter around her. "If you want to call it that. I'm just making up for lost time Hermione. I never bonded with my parents like most people do. I never got very close with them. I might actually have a chance to now that my actions nearly cost me both of them."

"It's not all your fault you know. You did what you thought was right."

"Yes, and look where it got us."

"But it wasn't-"

"I know," he continued, gently cutting her off. "But I didn't help matters at all. I was rash, and angry, and did what I could to stick it to my father because I was mad at him. In hindsight, I could've gone about things better."

"Yes, you could've, but that won't change now Draco. After all, you can't change the past once it's set in stone."

"Time-turners can."

"That's something completely different."

"I heard a rumor that you had one in third year. Who the hell trusts a third year with a time turner!?"

"You're getting off track," she remarked playfully, hitting him in the arm. "And for the record, Dumbledore did."

"I should've known," he replied with an eye roll. That shouldn't be so surprising to me."

"No, it shouldn't be." Propping herself up on one elbow, she brushed his fringe out of his eyes. "You're just jealous that he didn't entrust one with you."

"The old man? Granger, he didn't trust me with a book. He might say that he trusted me, but he still kept me at a distance. I wasn't a favorite- and believe you me I never really regretted that part- and I wasn't a golden kid. That's fine with me. The only things he was within me were darkness and a lost kid, someone he tried to save. Obviously, that didn't work out in his favor."

Hermione cringed at the memory, but he was quick to ease away the lines on her face. "Don't get so worked up bookworm," he remarked playfully, pulling her down on top of him. "Like you said, the past is set in stone, and there's nothing any of us can do to change it now."

"Yeah, but-"

He pressed his lips to hers, cutting off any sort of argument that she had. Despite herself, Hermione couldn't help melting into the kiss. He was a great kisser after all, even if he only ever used it for a distraction when they had talks like this. Oh well, she would just bring things up later when he was less likely to smother her lips. That always got to the blonde.

It was quite fun, at least for her. Pulling away, she hopped off the bed, winking in his direction as she walked.

"Where are you going?"

"I thought I would take a shower before sleeping," she said lazily, grabbing her folded pajamas as she walked. "If you're fast enough you can join me."

He beat her into the shower, actually moving her out of his way. Later, she held it against him.

* * *

It was two months before the Malfoy elders returned to the Manor. Although Lucius could've returned a month prior to that he refused to leave his wife's side and actually stayed at St. Mungo's for the additional month- in a foldout chair, with no bed.

Draco earned a hint of respect for his father then, seeing the proud man stick it out in such poor sleeping conditions for his wife without ever returning to the Manor for a decent night's rest.

Hermione respected both the Malfoy men more so after that; Lucius for sticking by his wife, and Draco for opening up and not being so stiff towards his father. It was nice to see.

Narcissa Malfoy didn't look spectacular upon arrival, and a wheelchair was literally brought along to assist the weary woman to her bed. Hermione thought it was curious that St. Mungo's let her go when she wasn't well enough to walk, but suspected the two men around her had something to do with it. She would make certain that their anxiousness to have a well and sane Narcissa didn't drop on her health.

Of course she would be the mediator between sane and insanity. She was used to the position, and couldn't think of herself being anywhere else.

When the two arrived, the brunette turned to lead the couple back towards Narcissa's wing where she thought they would be staying. Most of Lucius' side was destroyed for one reason or another, and the old bedroom was too scarred and disliked to ever be used again. She wouldn't be surprised to find the place destroyed soon enough.

But Draco had other ideas. Gently pulling on his girlfriend's hand he led her in a different direction, to a part of his own wing that she never really got to see. He guided the three to a door she saw just once when roaming around, but never actually opened before. Unlocking the door, he unveiled the secret to the three.

It was an elaborately decorated door, the walls decorated in a pale green (no surprise) and the rest of the room furnished with dark woods, and one enormous bed in the center. A bathroom and two separate closets set off to each side. The place was just as big as Draco's room, and she again wondered why the Malfoy's had oh so much space to themselves.

But Hermione couldn't argue that the space was beautiful. Looking towards her boyfriend she smiled, knowing what he had been doing whenever he disappeared. Now she knew what he was off doing when she was studying or showering or reading or trying out new spells. But Draco wasn't looking at her at all, and instead had eyes only for his surprised, humbled parents.

"It's beautiful son," came the voice of his mother, soft but pleasant. They were told that as strength and memories continued to return to her body, sanity, health and her voice would follow. It sounded like a meshed idea, but Hermione let it be.

"I thought you deserved somewhere to stay," he said proudly, "Together. Since you're starting over, I thought that a new room might be nice too."

Narcissa nodded, and Hermione slipped away from her boyfriend to move the wheelchair around, letting the older woman fully take in the room, and giving the two men a moment alone to talk.

"You did this for your mother," Lucius said, nodding his approval. "I must say, it's quite lovely. She will enjoy it here."

"I did it for both of you," Draco corrected, looking at his father through the corner of his eye. "You both deserved a place to start over and try again. The old bedroom is out of the question, and I couldn't find a room in either of your wings in well-enough condition to do the renovation on. So I settled for here."

The father paused then, taking in what his son had said. "Thank you son."

If Draco was surprised by the genuine tone in his father's voice, he didn't let on. "You're welcome. It's time we all start over and try to forget the past."

"You think either of you will actually forget the past?"

"No," the younger man replied, straightening up. "I suppose we'll never really forget it. But we will learn to forgive."

And Lucius nodded, clasping his boy on the shoulder. "I would like that son."

"As would I son, as would I."

* * *

**Final a/n:** Welp, there it is guys! The story is complete! I might add on an epilogue at the end, but we'll see. I'm saying that it's complete as of now, but the epilogue is a possibility. Please don't hold your breath though, as I did say that it's only a possibility.

Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed/favorite/followed this story as well as the one before it. You rock. Thanks for reading both of these story. And although it was a lot of fun, the curtain closes on all great things, even stories. So I bid you reader ado.

You can find me on facebook (look on my profile page) or you can check out some of my other stories. Either away, I hope you liked it :)


End file.
